To Be or Not To Be
by junebug19
Summary: AU AH Clary and Jace meet in high school. Love at first sight? Check. Melodrama City? Check. An overprotective brother, an evil conniving grandmother and an obsessed rival for Clary's affections all get in the way. Will they make it? Expect soap opera type crazy and hot steamy action. Clace. Clebastian
1. Chapter 1 Strangers Meet

Clary Fairchild sat slumped over, a book held high above her face and oversized glasses falling down barely keeping itself up at the tip of her nose. Her mind was only half on the book. From time to time, she quickly surveyed the throng of teenage students milling into the high school. She was waiting for her best friend, Isabelle, to walk into homeroom together.

"Clary!" she looked up and smiled at Izzy despite the frown on Izzy's face. "What in the world are you wearing now?" Izzy looked her up and down.

Clary could practically hear Izzy mentally ticking off all the things that were wrong with Clary's appearance. From her curly red hair messily gathered up and tied up in a bun atop her head to the oversized long sleeved denim shirt she grabbed out of the stack of clean clothes , not realizing it was her brother's until she stepped out the door, to the well worn ripped baggy jeans and cuffed green Converse sneakers on her feet. She had tried to explain to Izzy that she just didn't care but truthfully it went beyond that. It was more that she didn't want to be noticed. She wanted to fade into the background and the idea of being scrutinized by the teenage boys who always seemed to have nothing better to do than gape and laugh at the array of females before them filled her with horror. She didn't know how to explain this to Izzy without Izzy lecturing her about her apparent asexuality or possible lesbianism. It was always said jokingly but still she didn't need to hear Izzy's diatribe so she just stood good naturedly as Izzy pulled at her hair, tied up her shirt and rolled up her jeans to "do something about this mess." She could always undo it later and if it made Izzy feel better, it was worth it.

"I don't know how you can let yourself be seen in public like this," sighed Izzy giving her another once-over, tugging and pulling at her hair and clothing. "Remind me why we're friends?" she sighed shaking her head.

"Well, we do live across the street from each other," Clary recited, "we've known each other since kindergarten and I keep you occupied," she ended with a grin.

"There, that'll do," Izzy said decisively. "I wish you could lose those glasses."

Clary looked away guiltily. She didn't actually have a prescription. It was just another way to keep herself covered up but Izzy didn't need to know that.

"Now, how do I look?" Isabelle asked her as she twirled around with her arms open.

"Do you really have to ask?" Clary answered. "You look gorgeous, of course."

It was true. Isabelle was tall, almost six inches taller than Clary's five two inches and she had a killer body. She showed off her long legs in tight black jeans over black leather booties and a fitted blue shirt. Her long, shining black hair swayed perfectly behind her back.

"Where is that hottie brother of yours?" Izzy whispered into Clary's ear.

Clary rolled her eyes. "How would I know? I don't keep tabs on him," she huffed. She supposed she probably should know considering how oppressively over protective he was. In fact, he wholeheartedly approved of Clary's choice of misshapen, oversized clothing and did not question the glasses even though he knew she did not need them. Still, as much as she shied away from any attention, her brother, Jonathan, reveled in it. He was the most popular boy at Alicante High, the star football player, a Senior, and all the girls drooled over him. Unfortunately this included Izzy. Clary found this cringeworthy not just because he was her brother but also because they had also known each since they they were little kids.

Her brother would usually give her a ride to school but he had to get in early, earlier than she was willing to get up. He was eager to meet up with a new transfer. They met during football camp over the summer and he was convinced the combination of their skills would get them the State Championship this year. She supportively listened to her brother's plans, hoping he would finally achieve his dream. The team had actually gotten to the State Finals last year but fell short of the Championship win. As much as she sometimes felt suffocated by his watchful presence, she loved him and wanted him to be happy. They were unusually close or perhaps that was natural considering they had lost their parents at a young age. They clung to each other out of necessity and grew up under the care of their Aunt Hodge. Eliza Hodge was not an affectionate caretaker and she held a pronounced bias against men, good looking men to be exact. She had never gotten over a former husband she had divorced before they moved in with her. Clary guessed he must have swept her off her feet with his good looks and charm but Aunt Hodge had explained repeatedly to Clary that men could not be trusted with their hearts. He had been unfaithful and they had separated.

This prejudice in their Aunt Hodge was of course particularly difficult for Jonathan. His thick white-blonde hair, bright green eyes, a replica of her own, and an impressive physique built from many daily hours of training and workouts never failed to bring a scowl to Aunt Hodge's face until it seemed to be permanently fixed there. She did not favor him with any treats or "extras." But, he was resourceful and gainfully employed since he was ten. Clary often marveled at his tenacity and endless energy; that he had time for the constant football practice, his studies maintaining a straight A average and also put in the twenty hours each week for work. He had found the perfect job at a local gym so he had free membership and even convinced her to join (at a steep family discount of course). He thought she could at least use the self-defense classes and she had to admit those were fun along with the spin, cardio, step and strength building classes. She hid it well under the lumpy layers of clothing but she had built up a firm, well toned body over the course of two year of a steady fitness regime. Isabelle often joined her in one or two of the weekly classes but Clary made it a daily habit.

Isabelle sighed, "You've got a terrific body. I don't know why you insist on wasting it. Come on," she tugged on Clary's elbow and Clary followed Izzy into the school.

* * *

The first day of her Junior year was uneventful so far. It seemed she could pass through another year generally invisible to the masses. There were quite a few new students other than the Freshman. There were several transfers from St. Xavier's that had recently closed. They didn't seem to notice her either and that was just fine with her. But she couldn't help observing all the new faces. It felt like she was looking for someone. As strange as that seemed, she knew that had always been her way for as long as she could remember. She was always searching through a crowd of new faces, looking for something. But she had no idea what she was looking for.

She was on her way to lunch when she spotted her brother. She thought about sneaking up to him and giving him a playful shove, that was sort of their thing, but she realized he was in an animated conversation with someone. Someone who had his back turned to her but was obviously a member of the football team from his height and sturdy build. Someone Clary didn't know. She considered interrupting her brother's conversation anyway. She didn't know this person and she felt an urge to see who it was.

The loud sound of books dropping to the floor and scuffling feet drew her attention away. A boy was on the floor, searching for his glasses, a bewildered look on his face. He crawled around in front of a crowd of football players. Clary recognized Raphael Santiago among them, laughing at the unfortunate hapless boy on the ground. It was clear that the boy was practically blind without his glasses since he could not see they were just a few feet away from him. She watched Raphael glide down, pick up the glasses and taunt the boy.

"Looking for these?" asked Raphael as he twirled the steel rimmed glasses in his hand, laughing derisively.

"What? My glasses? Oh yeah, thanks," said the boy as he got up on his feet squinting around searching for the owner of the voice that spoke to him.

Raphael scooted back nimbly as the boy finally made his way over to him.

"Not so fast," Raphael moved sideways showing off some fancy footwork, completely unnecessary considering he was maneuvering against someone that moved like a blind man.

She had always liked Raphael. He was one of her brother's many friends or perhaps worshipper was more apt. Raphael had a slim, lean build but a wiry strength that propelled him down the football field with astonishing speed. He also had a very pretty face that Clary liked to draw. She had never known him to act the bully but there wasn't any other way to describe his assault on the poor boy. She felt a surge of pity and outrage at the injustice he was treated with. Why should he be treated this way for a disability? It was wrong. She didn't think as she rushed over, grabbed the glasses out of Raphael's raised hand and placed them in the boy's outstretched palm.

"Hey!" Raphael cried out. "I wasn't done with him," he complained.

"Yes, you were," she said firmly. "Are you okay?" she turned back to the boy who quickly put his glasses back on and blinked rapidly adjusting to his cleared sight.

He was not bad looking. In fact, he had a very agreeable face. Dark brown hair, his eyes a richer shade of brown, long dark lashes that she instantly envied. He was tall but skinny, dressed in patchy, worn jeans and a Warcraft gamer t-shirt. But the best thing about him was the open humor she detected on his face and when he smiled down at her something clicked. She knew he was a kindred spirit and they would be good friends.

"Not to worry," he told her jovially. "This kind of thing happens to me all the time."

She bent down to help him pick up the scattered books, papers and pens along the floor.

"I bet," sneered Raphael.

"You stay away from him," Clary stood up and glared at Raphael. He was shorter than most of the football players but still had several inches on Clary. She wasn't even slightly intimated even though he leaned over her, a haughty and challenging look on his face.

"He doesn't deserve to be treated this way. He's not a toy to play with," Clary stated with her hands were on her hips. She watched Raphael's eyes widen with surprise.

It was then that Clary realized a few things. First, she had an audience. She inwardly cringed knowing she had broken her own cardinal rule, to blend into the background, stay invisible. Secondly, a very tall, very muscular fellow was now standing at her side. She didn't turn to face him out but she could feel electric sparks flying off him. What the hell is that? She would have checked out this strange new creature that could have such an effect on her but she refused to move her eyes off Raphael and let him think she was backing off. Third, she was holding her own glasses in her right hand that was now planted on her hip. She must have taken them off to give Raphael the death glare but this was not something she ever intended to do and felt vaguely naked without them. Fourth, Jonathan was at her other side.

"What is going on, Clary?" he asked, his eyes darting between her, Raphael and the boy that she defended.

"Nothing, no big deal," Raphael answered turning to Jonathan but his eyes were still locked on Clary's. "I'm sorry, Clary," he said contritely. "I didn't know the geek was your friend."

He looked over at Jonathan, swallowed then turned back to Clary. "I'll see you later. I am sorry. Don't be angry," he gave her a weird smile. She wasn't sure what to make of it.

Clary watched Raphael with astonishment. She didn't think it would be so easy to get him to back off. She supposed it was Jonathan but she felt uncomfortable as his gaze seemed to grow more emphatic. "Well, you should really apologize to … to …"

"Simon. Simon Lewis," the boy proclaimed cheerfully. He had gathered up his things, stuffing them into his knapsack that slung over his shoulder and stood behind Raphael.

"Yeah, whatever," Raphael finally tore his eyes away from her and shoved past Simon.

"That's just rude," Clary hissed.

"Like I said," Simon shrugged. "Used to it. But I appreciate your help."

"And I can attest to that," said a low, lazy voice coming from the spark inducing stranger at her side. "I've seen Simon tripping over himself on many occasions."

Clary turned to the voice and was struck by the sight of him. So this was the person her brother had been conversing with. She could tell from his height and build along with the golden hair that curled slightly above his wide shoulders. He was completely breathtaking and she could feel her body's uncontrolled reaction to him. Her heart beat with a hammering pulse and there was a frantic flutter in her stomach. All of a sudden she wanted to be seen. She didn't want to hide anymore. She wanted him to see her and it was such a revolutionary and unfamiliar sensation she trembled. What was happening to her?

"Are you cold?" he asked her, a little crease forming between his brows, a slightly darker shade than his sunny golden blonde locks.

She wondered if he really cared or if he was making fun of her. She couldn't bear the notion that he was just teasing her but she couldn't move her eyes away from him. He had incredible eyes. The golden hues flecked with amber were completely mesmerizing. She imagined she could completely loser herself in them, spend hours trying to recreate those exact colors on canvas. She used all her willpower to stop shaking. She felt Jonathan's hands on her shoulders before she remembered he stood right next to them.

"Clary, is there something wrong?" he asked her and forcibly turned her to face him.

She shook her head in an attempt to clear her idiotic daze. "I'm fine, Jonathan. I wish you'd stop worrying."

Still, she rested her head against his chest. She needed a moment to stop, return to some semblance of normalcy. She could feel the two newly met boys around her take a step back as they watched her with Jonathan. She didn't know what compelled her then but she quickly lifted her head to face the golden god and told him, "He's my brother."

She watched as his face seemed to ease into a smirking grin and at that moment she found him absolutely obnoxious.

"Why are you smiling like that?" the words came out unbidden.

He looked a bit taken aback but promptly answered, "You know, you're a little spitfire. I like girls with spirit." The easy grin returned to his face and she could feel her blood boiling from what, she didn't know.

"What were you saying about Simon?" she suddenly asked him, a dawning sensation flooding over her. "Did you have a hand in him tripping over himself in one of those many occasions you witnessed?"

His eyes narrowed a bit and the easy smile faded. He was still more beautiful than he had any right to be but it was clear he did not like her line of questioning.

"Clary, what's gotten into you?" her brother asked her, his hands still on her shoulders. He looked thoroughly perplexed but took a moment to take the glasses out of her hand and fit them back on her face. "This is Jace. He's the new member of the Alicante Shadowriders. I told you about him." Jonathan gave her a warning look.

"Just to clear the air, Red," Jace spoke up. "I don't actually find it all that amusing to pick on clumsy nerds. Adorable, hotheaded little girls are much more my thing," he leaned against the wall with the sexiest lopsided grin she had ever seen.

It stirred something in her that she had never felt before. An almost painful want shot through her body. She gulped twice before she found her voice.

"Do not call me Red or a little girl. I'm sixteen," she informed Jace before turning away. "Come on, Simon. Let me escort you to the cafeteria." She grabbed Simon's arm and steadied herself against it as she pushed him in the right direction.

Between the two of them, they gracelessly stumbled away. She barely heard her brother tell Simon, "Watch yourself," before they were far enough away that she could breathe again.


	2. Chapter 2 He Notices

"So, Iz, this is Simon. He's a new transfer," Clary explained to Izzy when they reached her usual table with Isabelle.

Izzy looked up, a sandwich in her hands. Her mouth dropped open a little but she promptly recovered. She tilted her head to the side, her thick black hair formed a shining curtain that fell silkily down her shoulder.

"Well, this is new," Izzy responded after swallowing the food in her mouth. She put down her sandwich and raised her hand to welcome Simon.

"Simon," Clary turned back to him and almost laughed at the stunned expression on his face. "This is Izzy, Isabelle, my best friend."

"Hi," Simon finally managed then took Izzy's hand and brought it to his lips.

"And different," Izzy continued, her hand still in Simon's, his head bent down over her hand.

He lifted his head then and Clary could see he had closed his eyes as he reopened them with a dreamy expression in them. He let go of Izzy's hand.

"Enchanted," he uttered.

Izzy rewarded him with a small smile, "You're cute," she told him.

Clary grimaced. She really liked Simon but he was a bit of a dork. She really hoped Izzy would not break his heart. She wasn't sure if she just rescued him from Raphael's malicious taunting to deliver him into Isabelle's far more dangerous hands.

"Simon, sit," she said a little abruptly but Simon only smiled good naturedly and took a seat next to her, across from Izzy.

Clary pulled out her lunch from her bag and started unwrapping the foil that encased her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"So, Iz, have you met any of the new transfers today?" Clary asked her, her mind filled with images of the outrageously gorgeous blond she left back in the hallway. She wondered if she was just an incredibly shallow person. How else to explain the sudden infatuation with a boy she had just met? She had never cared for boys before no matter how good looking although Jace was certainly a new level of gorgeous as far as she was concerned but it bothered her, the arrogantly knowing look he gave her. It told her he knew the effect he had on her and could easily control her if he wanted to. But she mostly didn't like the uneasy feeling that this may well be true. There was something about him, other than his physical beauty, that moved her. She wanted to know him. She wanted him to know her but she was afraid she couldn't make it easy for him. Everything probably came too easy for him. He would never give her a real chance if he saw her as one of the eager hordes of girls that chased after him.

"Are you listening to me?" asked Izzy. "Why bother asking me a question if you don't even pay attention to my answer? Are you okay?" Izzy ended her rebuke with a look of concern. It wasn't like Clary to space out this way. There was definitely something up.

"I'm listening," Simon said, "avidly."

Izzy looked him over and patted his hand appreciatively. "Thanks, Simon. I hate being ignored," she exaggerated a pout.

"I could listen to you forever," Simon whispered.

"Oh my God," Clary giggled. "Simon, you need help. Serious mental help. And Izzy, I'm sorry. It's just I think I met someone important. Someone that I want to notice me."

Izzy immediately perked up. "You're not joking, are you? This is for real, right Clary?"

"I gather you're not talking about me?" Simon asked fluttering his long lashes.

"Simon, you're incredibly cute, but no, not you," answered Clary shaking her head.

"Then you probably mean the self proclaimed God's gift to all Females, Jace Herondale," Simon sighed.

"Why? Am I that obvious?" Clary worried, her eyebrows lifted with alarm.

"No," Simon looked at her curiously, "Not at all. I honestly couldn't tell you felt anything about him. In fact, I thought you were surprisingly unbothered by his magnificence and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he didn't like that. Girls are always all over him," Simon pulled his mouth down with disgust. He turned to her then and looked at her cautiously, "Seriously, that's not the guy for you." He peered down at her and looked sincerely worried. "That guy's broken half the hearts at St Xavier's. You deserve someone better than that."

"Man, that's sweet," said Izzy. "You're a sweetheart, Simon. That's so rare in boys."

Simon blushed and looked down.

Izzy turned her attention back to Clary, "So, about this guy, tell me everything."

* * *

Clary, Izzy and Simon formed a natural trio. While they were each very different between Clary's quiet intensity, Simon's relaxed good humor and Izzy's vibrant energy, they just fit really well together. Although something more than friendship appeared to be blooming between Izzy and Simon but CClary never felt like a third wheel or the odd woman out. Izzy still had plenty of admirers but she seemed to lack the usual interest in the general male masses and even stopped asking about Jonathan. Simon just had a way with Izzy. He always knew what to say to bring a smile on her face and from what Clary could see nothing else made Simon happier than seeing Izzy's face light up when he joined them.

As for Clary's romantic prospects, those were rather dim. After the excitement of meeting Jace that first day at school she had made a real effort to fix herself up … a bit. Of course, there were baby steps involved. She was hardly going to miraculously transform into another creature in a day but she no longer wore her glasses and made an attempt to dress with some care. Her style was still casual and rather tomboyish but Izzy no longer looked at her despairingly and would only make a few quick adjustments before she nodded with satisfaction. Clary refused any makeup but she put some effort into her hair and was actually pleasantly surprised at the way a few thorough strokes with a brush could turn her unruly curls into a thick wave that bounced softly against her back. She worried he might take her for a stalker but Clary inevitably spent a lot of time hoping to run into Jace and she could usually spot his effortlessly perfect tousled golden head of hair or heard his voice, it was like music to her ears, at least once a day at school but he always seemed to be surrounded by a crowd of his teammates, giggling cheerleaders or other random students. Jace did not seem to adopt any particular clique although being the next big thing in the Alicante Shadowriders usually meant he was trailed by the football crowd. And while it brought a heavy pressure to her chest, it was good enough to see him and soak in the sight of him, listen to little tidbits of his conversations. He was smart and quick. He was taking advance classes and she could see the high grades on the papers he shoved into his books. He had intelligent conversations debating the merits and downsides of current events and policies with teachers, TA's and the small cadre of ivy-league obsessed students. She took to carrying her sketchbook with her and the pages were littered with his image. She tried very hard to capture him in her pictures but they were never quite right. He was just too … alive. He couldn't be stilled in a sketch.

Izzy was skeptical when Clary managed to surreptitiously point him out to her.

"Really? Him?" she asked doubtingly.

"Out of my league. Yeah, I know," Clary sighed but couldn't help feeling hurt that even her best friend knew she had no chance.

"What? No. No, that's not what I meant," Izzy replied with a frown. "Clary, you can't see yourself. You never could. It's just he seems … preoccupied."

Clary supposed she could understand how Izzy would get that impression. At that moment he was surrounded by a bevy of short, flouncing, cheerleader skirts and smooth bare legs. Kaelie Willow, the big busted blonde cheer captain had her sights set on him and leaned her oversized bosom into his arm, a big red lipsticked smile on her face. But he didn't seem to notice her especially and graced the entire circle of seven or eight girls with his leisurely attention.

"He really is hot," Izzy stated the obvious, "but I'm not sure he's right for you." Izzy looked directly into Clary's eyes. It was her no nonsense, no bullshit look.

"Clary, you need someone special. You know I've always teased you about your love life or lack thereof but the truth is I knew you were waiting for someone different, someone really perfect … for you. I just can't tell with him," she gestured toward Jace. "He seems kind of consumed with himself. I don't know if he could be … enough."

Clary's eyes followed Jace and she dropped them when he seemed to look her way. She knew he barely noticed her existence. It was ridiculous the way she mooned over him. At least she hadn't made a fool of herself. It was small comfort but it was something.

"You're right, Iz," she agreed, her eyes closed. An instant depression overwhelmed her. "I don't know what I was thinking. I must be mad."

"Why so glum?" came from a voice above her. A voice she heard in her sleep and felt like a warm caress.

Clary was too startled to do anything but quickly open her eyes and look raptly up at the hero of so many countless daydreams.

"Um," he looked down at her. "So why don't you ever talk to me?" he asked her.

"Why don't you ever come talk to me?" she answered back. She hoped he couldn't see the rush of emotion he brought out of her. She wanted to look away but the thought that she might lose this precious moment with him physically hurt her. "I mean, I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you but you're always busy."

She watched him carefully measuring his reaction. He seemed to consider this explanation and a little smile appeared on his lips. He didn't take his eyes of hers and she felt like their souls were communicating in a language much deeper than their voices could ever convey.

"Hey, I'm Isabelle, Clary's best friend." Clary heard Izzy introduce herself and would have looked at her with disbelief if she could look away from Jace. Izzy sounded like her brother. There was a stern warning in her voice that registered in Clary's head and she finally turned to Izzy.

"Izzy, this is Jace. Jace, Izzy," she had to get it together. The sparks she had felt from him before seemed to have expanded into a burning, bubbling desire beneath her skin. She realized he hadn't responded to Izzy's greeting and lifted her eyes back up at his. Her heart stopped when she saw he was still just looking down at her.

He turned to Izzy then, "Yeah, hi Isabelle. Nice to meet you. Happy to meet any friends of Clary. Glad to know she's not just hanging with Simon."

Jace lifted his arm and pulled a hand through the curls above his forehead. Clary watched the muscles flex beneath his shirt and longed to run her own hands through his hair.

"I didn't think you wanted much to do with me after the last time we talked," he grinned at Clary, "but I'm glad to know that's not the case. I better get going. You know, classes" He didn't turn away and seemed to be searching for something else to say. "Are you going to the party this weekend?" he asked.

"Party?" she replied, feeling a little stupid but she honestly had no idea what he was talking about.

"You mean Sebastian's party?" Izzy questioned, still looking at Jace suspiciously.

"Yeah, Verlac. His parents are out this weekend so he's throwing something at his place," Jace answered.

Clary could barely think straight while his dreamy golden eyes locked on hers. Sebastian. Sebastian Verlac. Another football player. Another one of Jonathan's macho, lunkheaded friends who usually treated her like a waitress and definitely not someone her brother would want her hanging around. Sebastian had quite a reputation for loving and leaving the ladies. Before Jace showed up, all the girls were either hung up on her brother or Sebastian. He had the polished, dark haired good looks of some fairytale prince but Clary had heard him brag about his conquests too many times to ever mistake him for a chivalrous Prince Charming. She was fairly certain her brother would never allow her to attend one of Sebastian's parties.

"Maybe. Why? Are you going?" asked Izzy.

Clary's eyes opened wide and she turned to see if Izzy had grown two heads. Izzy had dated Sebastian a year ago and it hadn't ended well. She had sworn she would have nothing more to do with him so the idea that she might now be going to one of his parties seemed incredible.

Jace returned Izzy's narrowed look. It was obvious that Izzy did not trust him and now it seemed Jace didn't quite take her for her word.

"I don't know," he answered flatly. "It depends on who's going." His beautiful golden eyes turned back to Clary and bore down on her. "So are you going?"

Clary had no idea what to say. The truth was she had no desire to set foot in Sebastian's house. He'd probably have her on refill duty. But it seemed Jace wanted to see her and …

Just then Jonathan appeared. "Hey guys," he approached them with a cautious look on his face. "What's up?"

Izzy brightened up and fluffed up her hair. She couldn't help herself. It was practically an ingrained habit at this point. "Oh, Jace here was just asking if we were going to Sebastian's party this weekend. I know you're working. Aren't you, Jonathan?"

"Yeah, I'm working but I'll get to the party later," Jonathan answered her then turned to Clary with admonishment clearly written all over his face. "But that's no place for you. There's no way you're going to the party."

Jace studied her brother and pursed his lips a bit. "Well, I probably won't be there, either. I'm sure something better will come up." He turned back to Clary and she thought she saw a question in his eyes. Her heart leaped and her stomach seemed to flip over when he gave her a slow smile. "I'll see you around," he told her then walked away.

Something just happened. Clary wanted to hug herself with joy. He talked to her. He honestly seemed interested in her. He was just so amazing and she wanted him, badly.

"Clary, what's going on with you … and him?" asked Jonathan, a deep crease had formed between his brows.

"Well, that's my cue to leave," Izzy got up.

"Traitor," muttered Clary, "That's right, abandon me."

Izzy smiled apologetically and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "You'll live. You always do."

Clary watched Izzy leave, a sinking feeling in her gut. She could feel the disapproval radiating off Jonathan.

"You've been acting weird, lately," Jonathan continued. "You look different. And now you're chatting up the biggest manwhore in the school."

"Why would you say that?" Clary's voice tremored. "He just got here. How could he possibly be the biggest manwhore here? I thought that was your job."

Jonathan's eyes dilated. He was angry. This was trouble. They hadn't argued in years. Clary usually went out of her way to keep things peaceful between them. He was the only real family she had. Aunt Hodge barely acknowledged their existence. She didn't count. But, why would he say that about Jace. She had followed him and watched him enough to see that yes, he had quite a steady stream of girls throwing themselves at him but he brushed them off with a smooth charm. No, that was not right. That was not Jace and it was wrong that Jonathan could call him smear Jace that way. She did not want to fight with her brother but she would not let him condemn Jace when it was just not true.

She was about to argue her point when her brother stopped her with his next statement.

"He has a girlfriend," Jonathan told her flatly.


	3. Chapter 3 Bonita Clarissa

Clary was at the gym. It was a good place to lose herself and avoid other people. She decided not to take her usual HIIT class today and logged in three miles on the treadmill. She now sat on a weightlifting bench. The place was moderately busy, too early in the day for the crowd that came in after work, a few students after school like herself. But everyone had their headphones on and minded their own business. She usually did not come into the weight lifting room. Too many boys, but she needed to work off the terrible heaviness that settled over her since she spoke with Jonathan.

"You're lying," she said hoarsely to her brother. She had always intrinsically trusted him. He took care of her. He watched out for her. He was only a year older than her but he was both mother and father to her as well as a brother, a most beloved and admired older brother but at that moment she could not, she would not believe that Jace … would lead her on. She didn't even understand why this should all affect her so strongly. Jace did not belong to her. He had not asked her out. He didn't offer her anything and yet … she thought, she hoped. It didn't matter now.

Those two words out of her mouth had hurt her brother. The anger that shot out of his eyes a moment before turned into something else. He flinched as if she struck him. His face turned hard and stony.

"I have never lied to you," he said slowly and calmly. "I've met her. I saw them together at some family dinner. She introduced herself as Jace's girlfriend and he was right there. If it weren't true he could've said it."

And suddenly it felt like she was spinning back. Her mind reeled. Everything seemed to turn over. She wanted to throw up. That would be better than to release the torrent of tears that was building up in her chest.

"I've got to go," she said then. "Don't wait for me after school. I'm going to the gym," she told him and ran off.

"Hi, Clary."

Clary looked up and saw Raphael standing in front of her. He wore a loose tank and shorts and clearly had been busy with his own workout. He was lean and wiry but well-toned. The muscles visible on his arms, legs and chest bulged and glistened with a light sheen of sweat covering his caramel tanned skin.

She was not entirely surprised that Raphael would approach her. She had noted that he seemed to constantly pop up around her since their confrontation over Simon. She barely thought about it, considering her eyes were usually roving around, searching for Jace, but he had been strangely attentive.

He never gave her much of a glance before. Once, about six months ago, he suggested she get contacts. That was really the extent of the attention he previously gave her. Now, he was always asking how she was doing, what she was up to, what was she doing later? She tended to give him quick one or two word answers and had always managed to escape any further inquiry when Izzy, Simon or Jonathan would appear or through the buzz that signaled it was time to move onto the next class. She looked around hoping to spot something or someone she could use to excuse herself. She mentally kicked herself for not seeing him before he saw her.

This was Jace's fault. It was all Jace's fault.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Raphael asked her. He crouched down next to her and moved his hands up tentatively.

Clary realized she must have let her roiling emotions show on her face.

"I'm fine, it's nothing," she shook her head and reached for the barbell she had set down next to the bench.

"So," started Raphael, "I was thinking, we could hang out sometime?"

Clary looked at him, still holding the barbell in her right hand. She lowered her eyebrows.

"Are you asking me out?" she asked. She looked half stunned and half puzzled.

Raphael looked at her with an almost equal level of confusion on his face.

"Well, yeah. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together. We might have fun?" he said. He shifted his weight between his legs a little nervously.

"You don't even like me," Clary responded. Her body tensed. She waited for the punchline. This had to be some sort of stupid joke.

Sure, she had always thought Raphael was a nice guy before the Simon incident. Or at least he was nice and polite to her, not like most of Jonathan's friends, but she didn't forget the brutish annoyance and belittling sneer on his face right before she whirled at him to leave Simon alone.

Raphael stood still. His pretty face transformed from a fidgety discomfort to a hopeful remorse.

"I'm sorry about that, Clary. I was just being stupid. I'm a teenage boy. We're expected to do ten stupid things a year." He said it in a sweetly deprecating way that somehow brought a smile to her face.

"Really? A year?" she laughed.

"Ok, a day, but I think I've got it down to a week." Raphael relaxed a bit and leaned against the wall behind him.

Clary had never noticed how cute Raphael actually was but then again he never looked at her like this before. She looked down and examined what she must look like to him. She wore her usual black mid-length workout tights and a scooped, stretch tank top. She would never wear anything half so revealing outside of the gym but it was normal here.

Still, she was a little surprised that she didn't feel uncomfortable the way Raphael looked at her and then how his eyes drifted up and down her body.

"You look really good, Clary," he told her.

"Um, thanks," she answered. She wondered if she should be blushing. No, she didn't feel the nervous fluttering in her pulse before the rush of blood that flooded her cheeks. But there was a warmth. An unfamiliar warmth that rose up inside her. It was nice, this feeling. It was nice to know this boy, a very attractive boy admired her.

She had felt that way when Jace looked at her. Well, that and much, much more but that had been a farce. She was just one of innumerable girls that Jace flirted with behind his girlfriend's back. For a moment, she deluded herself and thought Jace actually looked at her like … like she looked at him.

"So, do you want to go out?" he asked hopefully. His big brown eyes were framed by impossibly long black lashes that curled up like his hair.

What was it with these guys and their enviable lashes? You could barely see her lashes what with the red hair and pale skin but he looked at her like she was beautiful.

Why not, she thought. I've finally discovered boys. She was sixteen and never been on a date. All the girls she knew had been dating for at least a year. Izzy had her first date when she was twelve.

No, she couldn't do that to Jace. What? No. Why would she think that? Was she losing her mind? She didn't owe him anything. And what's more, he didn't want anything from her. Well, nothing he couldn't get from so many other girls he'd soon forget all about her.

She lifted her head and tried to smile.

"Okay, Raphael. That would be nice," she told him.

She watched as the tentative eagerness on his face turned into an exuberant beam. Something in her heart thawed from the look he gave her and she was about to smile a genuine smile when she noticed a golden vision walking toward them. Jace.

He didn't look happy. In fact, he looked positively furious and insanely blood churningly hot. He was gleaming with sweat and the curve and obvious strength in his bare limbs made her heart stop and start erratically. She turned her head away swiftly so she couldn't see him anymore.

"I'll talk to you later, Raphael. I think I'm done here," she said. She didn't want to be anywhere near Jace. At least not the thinking, rational part of her. She couldn't deny the rest of her, her body, her heart screamed to stay, to see if he would stop, to take whatever scraps he would give her.

She was fumbling a bit, picking up her things when she felt the burning touch of Jace's hand on her arm. It violently shoved every other sensation – fear, worry, anxiety – out of her and her body moved on its own, closer to and facing him. Everything inside her pleaded for his touch but she couldn't give into it. Not when she now knew Aunt Hodge was right. You couldn't give your heart to a man who made you feel like this. You couldn't trust men.

"Hey guys. Clary, Raphael," Jace said languidly.

The easy tone of his voice startled her. It didn't even remotely match the look on his face when she saw him walking over. She couldn't stop herself from looking up at him then. She wondered if she must have imagined it. Jace's face was a statue. A beautiful statue. There was no detectable emotions on his face. But he held her. His long fingers were wrapped around her arm below her shoulder. It was not a tight hold but there was something entirely possessive about it and … she liked it. They were standing very close, facing each other only a foot apart. She had never stood so close to him before and the chemistry between them was so pure and so thrilling it took over all her senses. She couldn't remember why she was upset with him, why she would ever want to get away from him. In another moment, she felt certain she would throw her body against his and try to force him to lover her. A small, thin strand of sanity stayed with her, reminded her they were in the middle of a public place, a gym with many sweaty witnesses, most of them students their own age who might not know her but most certainly would know Jace. She lifted her own hand and placed it over his, the one that still gripped her arm, to pull it off but the feel of his hand under hers was a revelation. She had never touched him before and now she wanted to feel every part of him. She wanted to touch him, feel him everywhere. It felt as if he were a part of her. Like nothing could ever feel better and more right than him under her hands.

"Jace, can you get off her?" Raphael broke in and broke the hypnotic hold Jace had over her.

She pulled away from him. It was sharper than she intended but she knew with a damning certainty if she didn't break their contact immediately there was no going back. She would not be able to stop herself from running her hands all over him.

"What's it to you?" Jace asked roughly.

She was afraid to look at him. She was afraid of what she would see. She was afraid she would see too much. Or what she always seemed to mistake for something more than what it really was or if she saw nothing at all.

"Well, it looked like you might be hurting her," Raphael answered. "Clary, I'll walk you back to the women's locker room. We can talk about what we'll do on our date."

Clary felt Raphael's warm hands on her shoulders and her legs slowly moved in the direction that Raphael guided her toward.

"You two are dating?" Jace's voice was low.

"Well, we will be," Raphael responded. There was no mistaking the smug triumph in his voice.

Clary kept her head down as she walked away with Raphael.

"You might want to clear that with her brother," she heard Jace call out.

There was something in his voice that pained her. It sounded like betrayal and heartache. It sounded almost as distressing as what she felt when Jonathan told her the truth about Jace. She lifted her head so that her eyes were no longer facing the floor but looking straight ahead.

How dare he? How dare he sound like that? He was obviously just playing with her. He would soon find another girl to mess around with while his girlfriend was none the wiser. But mostly how dare he make her feel like this? Like she was committing a capital offense? Why should she feel guilty? She was beginning to think what started as a raging, overpowering, obsessive passion was turning into a devouring hatred.

* * *

Raphael actually had very little to say when he walked her back to the women's locker room though that was only a two minute trek. They didn't dawdle. Once they were sufficiently away from Jace she found the strength return to her legs and she was able to stride away fairly quickly. She was about to walk straight into the locker room but he held her back. She stifled a sigh before she looked up at him when it became apparent he would not let her go until he got something off his chest.

She was surprised when she saw warmth and tenderness on his face.

"Is there something going on between you and Jace?" he asked her gently.

She thought about how to answer this question. She thought about the sickening way he made her feel, the way she wanted to fall on him, to have their hands all over each other.

"No," she answered.

The look on Raphael's face told her she had taken a little too long to answer.

"Well, okay, but … I like you Clary," he said. He took his hands off her and placed them behind his head. He seemed to struggle with himself. "I know you wouldn't play around with me. You're a great girl," he finally said in a way that sounded like he was reassuring himself.

"It's fine if you don't want to go out anymore," she responded. Her voice sounded dull to her. She hoped Raphael wasn't hurt by it. The overload of sensations Jace drew out of her seemed to raze everything in its path and now that they were apart she felt numb as if everything vital inside her was burnt and dead. Another thing to add to her resentment against him.

He looked hurt.

"Why would you say that? Of course I still want to go out. Don't worry about your brother," Raphael pulled her face up with his hand under her chin. "I'll talk to him. He likes me. He knows I respect women."

Clary nodded woodenly. She expected him to release her then but then she realized with alarm that he was lowering his head down to hers. She quickly turned her face so that his lips met her cheek. She felt him chuckle a little then he leaned back.

"So, Thursday? Friday?" he asked her, his head still bent a little too close to hers for her liking.

"Friday," she answered. "I'll have to clear it with my Aunt first, anyway."

He smiled at her and brushed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "Okay, I'll call you or see you at school tomorrow. You can tell me then. Don't worry, parents love me. Will you wait for me? I'll give you a ride home."

"I'm expecting a ride," she lied. She needed some time alone. She needed to think about what was happening and she needed to be alone.

"Oh," he looked disappointed. "I'll be looking forward to our date, Bonita Clarissa," he whispered in her ear.

The way he spoke her full name made her shiver and she felt a smile brimming on her lips except she thought she spied Jace around a corner and that immediately dampened her mood. She knew she was just imagining him everywhere. She could not get him out. Out of her mind, out of her heart. She wanted to tear her hair out with the utter frustration of it all.

"Thank you, Raphael," she forced herself to concentrate on him and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek.

Before she turned into the locker room, she saw him flush with pleasure and she was glad. She was glad she could make him happy. Even if it was only spurred by the barest fraction of what she felt for Jace.


	4. Chapter 4 Beautiful and Perfect

Clary felt a throbbing in her head. A raging headache was looming ahead of her and there was no avoiding it. Jonathan was pacing back and forth in front of her.

What had gotten into her? Since when was she interested in boys? Why couldn't she wait until after he had gone off to University next year? Jonathan questioned her. He was definitely not happy about Clary's date.

She wished she could give him a satisfactory answer but she knew he wouldn't be happy to hear this, her entirely new interest in boys, was all about Jace.

But, she didn't mention him anymore. Not to Jonathan. Not to Izzy or Simon.

She had told them all about her upcoming plans with Raphael and that had been met with mixed reactions.

Izzy was not as encouraging as she imagined but she agreed he was hot and she thought he really liked Clary. Clary could still see some reluctance in Izzy's eyes. Especially when Izzy kept asking her what happened with Jace. Wasn't he her soul mate, or something? Wasn't that what Clary had said? Clary tried to avoid this topic of conversation but finally told Izzy that she realized Jace did not really care for her and she had accepted it. Izzy could tell that Clary was on the brink of tears and did not force any further details out of her but Clary noticed Izzy was strangely pensive. She examined Clary very carefully when she asked if Clary still had any feelings for him.

Clary certainly had no practice in hiding anything from Izzy. She didn't know if her acting successfully convinced Izzy that Jace meant nothing to her and no longer lingered in her thoughts but the way Izzy stared at her and shrugged suggested that Clary had not been able to fool her.

Clary had a much harder time explaining the date to Simon. He could not believe she would actually go out with the "rude hooligan" although he admitted it was a good thing Raphael had a thing for her, otherwise he would probably still be tormenting Simon. Simon laughed when he recollected Raphael now went out of his way to treat him well, calling him "Pal" and "Buddy" on several occasions. It was obviously all thanks to Raphael's feelings for Clary.

Clary shook her head and denied any influence on Raphael. She honestly did not want to hear that Raphael liked her more than she was willing to admit. She had barely gotten Aunt Hodge's approval to allow her to date Raphael. It was hardly worth the grilling she was subjected to and she had to promise to be back home before ten.

Jonathan had not been satisfied with this curfew. He thought she should be back by eight but by the very virtue of opposing his opinion, Aunt Hodge agreed to a later hour.

Clary almost wished for the eight PM curfew. She was nervous about what she would do with Raphael for more than two hours. He was sweet and very pretty but he didn't make her heart race and she certainly couldn't imagine kissing him. She imagined if she was dating Jace … she could do a lot of kissing … and touching … a lifetime would not be enough to spend on him.

These thoughts were upsetting but impossible to expel from her head. She tried her best to forget Jace but it was as if she were fighting a tornado, an avalanche, some destructive and all powerful force of nature. Especially now when he seemed to make it a daily mission to seek her out. She wondered if it was now only because she no longer sought him out, that the challenge she presented, brought out this desire in him to pursue her.

Since they last saw each other at the gym, she ran into him constantly. She cursed her luck. Why would fate do this to her? It was the very last thing she needed. Yet, there he was and he was always searching into her eyes. There was a desperation in the way he looked at her that she had never seen before. She didn't know what to make of it. Was it because he knew someone else was interested in her? And why would he care? None of it made sense. Did she want it to make sense? She just didn't know anymore. She couldn't tell heads from tails anymore.

She still tried to look more "like a girl" even though she actually no longer felt the incentive to attract anymore. But the only way to ever let him go was to possibly find someone else. Someone else to make her head spin, to make her forget him. She knew this was wrong and unfair to whomever she would use to replace Jace but she couldn't help herself. She knew she was operating on purse self-preservation.

Jace in no way made it easier for her. He seemed to chase her now in a way that would have filled her with giddy only a week ago. She still looked out for him, constantly, but now it was to avoid him. She couldn't safely say that she could control herself when he came close to her and so that only meant she had to stay away from him.

The last time he had unexpectedly cornered her was right before lunch that day. She had been putting some things away into her locker when she turned around and faced his wide, hard chest. She pulled her hands up to avoid having her face slam into him and the feel of him beneath her hands made her want to melt against him. She didn't have to see his face to know it was him. In fact, she in no way wanted to ever look at his face again.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked her abruptly. "I thought we were friends."

"Are we friends?" she asked. She was barely keeping up with their conversations. A sheer, minimal effort to keep herself off him was foremost on her priorities.

"I thought so. I thought we might even be more than that," he said softly and there was such a plaintive urgency in his words that she both thrilled and resented them.

"I'm not the girl you think I am," she said quickly and didn't wait for his answer before she pushed past him.

She had seen him again in the afternoon, at the end of classes. She had thought it was safe then, that she wouldn't have to scour the halls for him since she knew the team had practice and the football players would be on the field or at least they all should be. They had stood at opposite ends of the hallway, neither of them moving toward or away from each. Both just staring at the other. Clary was once again reminded of the first time they looked at each other this way, how it felt like their spirits spoke to one another in a language she could not decipher in her head but could feel it happening at some deep, inner level that went beyond their minds. Or at least that's what she thought. She twisted her eyes away then. She knew better than to trust these moronic, romantic notions. If she felt this way it was entirely one-sided and it would destroy her. She would end up an angry, bitter old lady like her Aunt Hodge. She turned around and moved away quickly. She was grateful when the relief of escaping any further encounter overwhelmed any regret she felt that Jace did not come after her.

Jonathan had gotten back home after five and had come straight to her room. He must be starving, Clary thought offhandedly while he paced back and forth. He was always starving after practice and usually stayed in the kitchen for a good hour wolfing down whatever she left out for him.

"The team is fucked up, Clary. Do you understand this? And you've done this. You've done this to me!" he exclaimed.

Clary knew it would be a bad idea to roll her eyes. Sometimes, Jonathan was such a drama queen.

"How could I do anything to your team?" she was finally allowed to speak and almost regretted it when she could see how hopping mad Jonathan was.

"How about this, Clary? You've got Raphael's head so far up his ass, he's off in some other stratosphere right now. Everything has to be repeated to him five times before he even realizes someone's talking to him. Coach reamed him out and had him doing twenty laps but honestly I don't think that did any good." Jonathan stood in front of her, his hands waving up and down.

Clary thought he resembled a frantic chicken but figured it would be better to keep this observation to herself.

"Raphael even got into some sort of shit with Sebastian. They wouldn't tell me what happened but they were fighting. Over you." Jonathan stopped in front of her. His green eyes hard, unmoving and fixed on hers.

"Jonathan, you're being ridiculous. There is no reason for Raphael and Sebastian to fight about me. I haven't even spoken with Sebastian since last year," Clary sighed with forbearance.

Jonathan eyed her suspiciously then exhaled loudly. "Clary, you might not realize this but you've stirred up a lot of teenage male hormones with this," he extended his hand up and down at her, "whole new look of yours."

Clary frowned and scrunched up her nose. She looked down at herself. She thought she looked pretty tame considering some of the things the other girls wore. She had quite a bit of savings from years of unspent allowance and decided it was finally time to add to her wardrobe. Izzy had reacted like this was an early Christmas gift and had been extremely enthusiastic during the outing. A few new pairs of jeans, some fitted shirts and a dress for her date with Raphael were the reapings from their excursion and she was now dressed in one of those jeans and shirt combinations. Only her lower arms and bare feet were revealed so it was all a bit bewildering. She looked back up at Jonathan, confusion plain on her face.

He shook his head and sighed as he sat next to her.

"Clary, people can actually see you have a shape under those clothes now." He looked up at the ceiling. He was clearly uncomfortable with this conversation.

"And now you have all these boys dying to see what you look like without them." He gave her another severe look then. "You know I'm here for you. I'll always protect you but this has really gotten out of hand." His face softened a bit as he looked down at her.

"Jonathan, are you suggesting I go back to wearing your cast-off old sweats again?" she asked jokingly.

"Would you? That might help," he said thoughtfully.

"I'm not doing it. I was joking for Chrissakes," she cut in before he really got the notion into his head.

"Clary," Jonathan stood up and looked at her warningly, "I almost decked Coach today."

"What?!" she screeched.

"Yeah, he took me aside later, after practice. You know, Jace didn't even show up today. No one knew what happened to him," there was blame evident in the way he looked at her. "Anyway, Coach told me I should rein you in, that you may be looking 'real fine' but you were creating mass havoc on the team."

"That sexist pig," Clary sputtered.

"He is a pig," Jonathan conceded. "He's almost twice your age. He should not be looking at you that way. I am seriously considering reporting him."

"And about that date," Jonathan started.

"Not this again," Clary complained. "We already pushed it back from last week … because you couldn't handle it. I'm not telling Raphael my brother won't let me out … again. Besides, he said you liked him. That you knew he respects women."

"Okay," Jonathan patted his hands downward in a calm down gesture. "I was just thinking it could be a group date. You know you've never been on a date before. Izzy and Simon could come. I'll bring Seelie and maybe some of the other guys and their girlfriends. What do you say?" he asked brightly.

Clary actually liked this idea. This would answer a lot of worry she had over the date and what to do when they were alone together. But she still asked Jonathan critically, "How many people are we talking about?"

Jonathan smiled with relief now that he knew she would agree. "I don't know. Whoever wants to come. It'll be fun. We'll check out that new action movie that just came out."

Jonathan got up then and muttered something about how he had to eat before he passed out. Clary would have thanked him if she wasn't so worried about Jace now. Why didn't he go to practice? She knew enough about him to know he was really disciplined. It wasn't like him to miss practice when everyone was expecting and counting on him. Oh God, why was she thinking about him? He was nothing to her and she was nothing to him! Why was he always in her head?

* * *

Clary sat at the lunch table with Izzy, Simon and Raphael. Raphael had become a fixture there since last week when she agreed to their date. At first, it felt a little awkward but now it was easy to remember why she always liked him in the first place. He didn't try to crowd her or touch her or kiss her, thank God, and he was even beginning to get on Simon's good graces. Raphael seemed to be in a particularly good mood today. He mentioned that he had a talk with Jonathan and asked her if she wanted to do the group thing. When she nodded her head she thought he might have looked a little disappointed but then when she asked if he minded he told her he was just happy to spend any time with her. It was really hard not to like Raphael.

At that moment both Raphael and Simon were teasing Izzy her about her endless choices for a date that Friday.

"You only have to choose, querida," Raphael told her. "Do you want me to set you up? I know at least half a dozen guys who would love to take you out."

Izzy looked vaguely annoyed. "No, I definitely don't do set ups anymore. Especially not by guys. Guys know very little about what a woman wants," she explained but looked pointedly at Simon.

"Well, a guy would have to be pretty stupid to screw up a chance with you," Simon answered a little dejectedly.

It was a highly annoying conversation. It was plain as day to Clary that Simon wanted to ask Izzy out as his date and Izzy was waiting for Simon to ask so what the hell was the problem? As for Raphael, he was as clueless as ever. He totally seemed to think he was being helpful when he pointed out all the guys that he could get for Izzy and then suggested various girls that Simon could ask out. Sometimes, people were just so messed up. Clary wondered how anyone ever found true love when all this stupid self-doubt and mixed signals got in the way.

Clary decided she would have to step in and fix this mess. Otherwise, she could easily see them apart and miserable for weeks, months, maybe even years but Clary was convinced at some point they would connect. It was just too obvious they were meant to be together.

"Hey, Simon," Clary said as if she just had a thought. "How about you and Iz go together? That way, Izzy doesn't have to deal with some ignorant, handsy, savage teenage boy. You know the type. All those guys that are always hanging all over her. And I know you. There isn't another girl in the world you'd rather spend time with."

Clary watched Simon's face as he blushed attractively, the pink adding a rosy color to his tanned skin, and then he looked uncertainly at Izzy. Izzy in turn looked expectantly at Simon.

"Well, I … of course I'd love to take Izzy but you know, I would never want to cramp your style, Iz," he looked at Izzy hesitantly, leaning back as if bracing for a blow.

Izzy's dark eyes shined brightly and the pleasure on her face was palpable. "I'd be happy to go with you, Simon. So, it's a date?" she asked him.

Simon nodded, a large grin planted on his face. The two of them stared at each other, oblivious to the rest of the world at that moment.

Clary hugged herself. She should probably excuse herself and let them have this moment to themselves but she was really just so happy to see the start of something that she knew was beautiful and perfect.

Besides, Raphael was still there and he looked incredulously at them, back and forth between Izzy and Simon. He turned to Clary then, a baffled expression on his face. He clearly didn't get it. She almost felt sorry for him. He missed a lot.


	5. Chapter 5 Dream Come True

Clary looked at herself in Izzy's floor length mirror. She wore the dress she bought for the date but it didn't feel right. Nothing felt right. Ugh, look at all that pale skin. There was a good reason she usually kept it all covered up but she had bought the dress and you inevitably showed some leg in a dress. At least they were very well toned. Maybe the muscles were a little too pronounced. She sighed heavily. She supposed she could come up with an endless list of all her shortcomings, not to mention that she was literally too short.

She decided to get ready for date night here. The last thing she wanted to deal with was Jonathan's scrutiny. Her own running commentary was bad enough. She was pretty sure his head would explode if he knew she was wearing a dress although it was by no means risqué. It was fairly plain, a muted blue-green that skimmed over her body, long sleeves with a hemline that fell just over her knees. She just knew the fact that she never wore dresses would probably have Jonathan thrown. At least she didn't have knobby knees. She could definitely say that much for her legs. Still, the dress showcased all the curves and dips along her body, mostly a product of her endless workouts. Of course Izzy had inspected her in the dress before she had been permitted to buy it and there was no way Izzy would let her buy something that didn't make her look good, she comforted herself.

Izzy had fixed her hair and forced her to sit while she applied some makeup.

"It's just some light makeup, Clary," Izzy hissed at her when Clary objected. "And, it's your first-first date. Please, let me do this, your first date only happens once."

Clary finally relented. It was true. A first date only happens once and she shook a little thinking she might be making a terrible mistake. All these years of hiding, staying away from the male population, waiting and waiting for someone. And now, to come to this? To have waited all this time for Raphael? It seemed a little ridiculous. It seemed a lot ridiculous. Clearly Jonathan wasn't the only member of her family with a really overblown sense of drama. It was just a date. It may be a first date but she felt certain most people would not make such a big deal about a date, even if it was their first, or at least it wouldn't seem like this all-important, life changing moment. She could clearly remember Izzy slamming back on her bed, lamenting to Clary about how stupid boys were when she came back from her first date. Izzy never even gave it a second thought after a week had passed. She supposed she should be able to be at least as cool as Izzy was about it when she was twelve. Who was she kidding? She would never be as cool as a twelve year old Izzy.

Isabelle had done a nice job. She had quite an expert touch. The green in Clary's eyes seemed brighter and more intense with the application of some light shadows and eyeliner. Her lashes seemed to stretch forever, darkened and thickened with mascara. Her hair lay long and thick against her back. Isabelle had insisted they keep it in its natural curls although Clary had been all for using the straightening iron. She thought her hair looked like a lion's mane but Izzy had persuaded her it was perfect. Although the wild curls were the natural state of her hair, she never went out of the house with it so untamed and she hardly recognized her own face when she observed herself in the mirror.

At least she had been allowed to wear her flats. Another inch or two would hardly make much of a difference and she wanted to be able to make a quick escape if circumstances called for it. She wasn't sure why she was thinking along those lines. She trusted Raphael and besides they would be surrounded by a crowd of their friends not to mention her brother but she had an uneasy feeling he would expect something. Even a kiss seemed impossible at the moment. The more she thought about it the more she was convinced this date was a mistake.

She liked him. She had always thought him cute with his sweet angelic eyes, a cupid's bow mouth, his skin the perennial color of a mocha latte and thick black curls framing his face. And now that she gotten a much closer and complete look at him, his attractions multiplied. It would only be totally expected that a running back on the football team should have an enviable hard body but she had never looked close enough to notice. Well, maybe this date wouldn't be so bad.

She couldn't imagine kissing him this very moment but maybe at the end of a nice evening, under a cool moonlit night, he would look at her that way again. The way that told her she was beautiful and then … well, she didn't know. Raphael made her feel special and treasured and she could get used to that feeling. Clary could hear Izzy rustling through her walk-in closet. She sat on the edge of Izzy's bed. Her hands went up and wrapped around herself. She hadn't seen much of Jace since that last afternoon when they stared at each other down the long hallway in school.

She no longer bothered searching for him with her eyes and ears. She realized she could just feel his proximity and learned to use that to evade him. It was very effective. She tried not to think about how insane that was, that she possessed some sixth sense that made her blood rush through her veins and charged the air with a magnetic energy when he came within fifty feet of her. She wondered if he did this to everybody or more likely to all the girls. Although if that were true, he'd probably be hauled away for scientific testing. She tried fiercely not to look at him. That was growing increasingly dangerous. The pull of his eyes and the unspoken conversation when their eyes did meet had grown more acute. It was almost agonizing to force herself to look away. She wondered if she was going crazy.

Just today, at the start of study period, a perilous time, an entire hour when she could be accosted. She felt the unmistakable charge and pull but it was much more forceful than she had ever known, it almost stunned her and kept her frozen to the spot but she somehow managed to move away and found herself traveling all around the school when the enthralling pull seemed to follow wherever she went. She had finally stopped when the sound of the school buzzers signaling the end of the period filled the air. At that point she was so thoroughly exhausted after spending an hour fighting the urge to turn around and run head first towards the pull that she felt her legs buckling.

She had mentally resolved herself to falling flat on her back but instead she was held up by the very person she had been trying to escape. She was too weak to fight any of her primal urges and just turned her body into his, wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed uncontrollably into him.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" he asked her. His voice. It sounded so full. Full of everything. Everything that overpowered her in that moment. An excruciating longing, hope, sadness, happiness and they just clung to each other until she regained her strength and was able to stand on her own. She still inexcusably held onto him. She hated herself for her weakness but couldn't let go and gradually the sobbing and sniffling stopped.

"I'm sorry. It's been a bad day. That's all," she tried to tell him but he just shook his head resolutely. He didn't want to hear the meaningless garble coming out of her mouth. He waited until she pushed herself away from him before he let go. Then he wordlessly handed her the sketchbook that must have fallen out of her bag. She remembered the way she had frantically thrown her things into the knapsack when she raced out of the library. She must have dropped it then.

She took the pad from his hands and felt as if all the barriers between them had lifted. She was ready to talk to him, to tell him why she ran from him, how much it mattered, how he made her fall to pieces. Then, Kaelie appeared, prancing out of a nearby classroom.

"Jace! I'm so glad you're here!" she squealed running her perfectly manicured long nails up and down his arm.

Clary could only see the way Kaelie's nails grazed over the beautiful ridges of his arm. The well defined muscles on his arm stayed rigid and her nails left a light white trail of scratches. She was evidently very comfortable putting her hands all over him and suddenly Clary remembered. Jace had a girlfriend. This was Jace. He was gorgeous and fooled around with the all too willing female populace around him and he would obliterate her if she let him.

She welcomed the steel walls that slammed down around her. They were strong, solid and kept her up.

"Thanks, Jace," she said lightly, quickly slid the sketchbook into her bag and walked away.

And that was it. She was sure her own imagination had turned this little incident into an earth shattering event. He had not said a word when she left. Not even goodbye. And why would he? He had a much more voluptuous and willing subject by that time. There was no reason to keep her around then. She didn't even care if he looked inside her sketchbook. That was really the last of her concerns. She had already tossed it away. It was time to let go.

Clary stood up and walked over to Izzy's floor length mirror. She took a good hard look at herself. She wondered if she could really keep fooling herself this way.

* * *

When Jonathan got a few friends together, apparently that meant just about half the school. Clary could hardly believe how many people showed up. Instead of being in a group date, it felt like a school trip with the entire Senior and Junior classes. At least Izzy and Simon were happy. Simon whispered something into Izzy's ear and she turned to face him laughing, then pluckd some popcorn out of the large bucket they shared and daintily pushed them into Simon's open mouth. They sat two rows ahead of her. She was lucky to be that close to them, at least they were within sightline. Jonathan and his date, Seelie, were far to her right. She couldn't even see them. The look on his face when he realized there was no way they would find four adjoining seats would have been laughable if Clary hadn't genuinely worried he might cause a scene and start insisting that people vacate their seats. Fortunately Seelie calmed him down. It was the longest relationship that Jonathan had ever managed, almost two months. Jonathan tended to get restless and disliked being "tied down" in a relationship. Seelie also went to another high school so at least he didn't see her on a daily basis. Clary was not sure she liked Seelie. Seelie had the same coppery red hair color as her own but she clearly never had to worry about humidity and frizzy hair. It was long, straight and glossy, not a hair out of place. Clary thought it entirely possible that Seelie had simply demanded perfection from her hair. There was an imperiousness about her that rubbed Clary the wrong way. Plus, she was tall, about the same height as Izzy, making it all too easy for her to look down her nose at Clary. It was hard to mistake the uplifted eyebrow, with an exquisitely groomed arch, of course, and the smirk on her rose painted lips as anything other than belittling condescension.

Clary could not help but feel self-conscious. Her untamed curls fell heavily down her back. Her pale skin and short stature felt like the bane of her existence but then she saw the way her brother looked at her and Raphael and that removed most of the sting from Seelie's haughty side-eye.

"Eres bella," Raphael told her when he embraced her, very chastely, her brother was right there and watching them like a hawk, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

He had a very gentle way with her, as if she was some delicate and fragile creature that might crumble and disappear if not handled with extreme care. She might have found it a little irritating since she had always seen herself as a rough and tumble, resourceful type of girl who could hold her own against any boy but she liked the way he barely touched her, only skimming his fingers lightly across her cheek, down her back or around her shoulders and when he eventually took her hand to lead her into their seats she did not mind it. It was a soft and tender hold. It gave her some comfort from the unfamiliar scrutiny of so many eyes. She wondered what Jonathan had told all these people. She hoped it was not too embarrassing but suspected he had asked a number of his friends to watch out for her. Although she thought he might not like the appreciative and speculative looks that seemed to entail.

And for the most part, Raphael did not seem to mind these pointed once-overs directed at her. If anything, he seemed proud and very solicitous, repeatedly asking if she wanted anything. Except when Sebastian passed by and then Raphael sat up straight, gripped the arm rest and locked his jaw firmly. Sebastian hadn't even turned to her or said a word so she found this behavior peculiar but decided not to waste any time worrying about Sebastian. He had a small but busty blonde on his arm. She looked like one of Kaelie's cheerleader minions but Clary didn't recognize her. She was a bit horrified, though, when she noticed their hair, while their colors were strikingly different between her platinum bleached blonde and Clary's own natural red, were both a mass of curls.

She nervously tugged at her own hair. She knew the curls were a bad idea.

"What are you doing?" Raphael asked her.

Clary looked at him and could feel an embarrassing blush blooming on her cheeks. Oh my God, she thought. He's making me blush. I think I must like him.

"My hair," she leaned into his ear and whispered. "It's a mess."

When she pulled away she felt his arm move lightly around her shoulders and pull her back to him again.

"I really like it when you're close to me, mi flor radiante," he said softly into her ear, "and everything about you is beautiful."

When Clary lifted her eyes to him and saw the warmth and tenderness in his eyes, she felt a swell of some indescribable emotion. It made her want to know what it would feel like to have his lips on hers. It made her ready to forget whatever had held her back before and ready for the future, ready to open herself to different possibilities. She didn't know what he saw in her eyes but she let them slowly close when he leaned his head down towards hers.

And then she felt a jolt, the unmistakable charge shot up and down her body that told her Jace was here and very close. Her body immediately tensed and Raphael swiftly reacted to it.

"What's the mat…," Raphael didn't finish. He only stared, a cold, grim stare at something or someone on the other side of her.

Clary's body knew but her mind did not want to believe it. She slowly turned her head to the one vacant seat at her left. Sure enough, it was Jace. He sat back in the seat, his long legs splayed out in front of him, his arms curved over both sides. He appeared completely nonchalant and unconcerned but the fingers on his left hand drummed loudly over the armrest it settled over.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed at him.

The lights in the theater dimmed as the previews started to play. She was too stunned to think about what she was doing when she twisted toward Jace and pulled away from Raphael's arm around her shoulders. The gold in Jace's eyes seemed to glow in the darkness that surrounded them. Her own eyes widened. They were too close to each other. Her pulse raced with the frantic beating of her heart. A rush of the exquisitely painful desire for him coiled inside her. Their eyes searched deeply into each other. The unspoken words, the way he looked at her, made her want to melt all over him.

"I'm on a date. This is a group date, right?" his voice was barely audible.

"So, where is she?" Clary had no idea how the words formed and came out of her mouth. She hoped she was not speaking too loudly. It was impossible to tell what was happening outside of her and Jace.

"I don't know," he answered.

Bizarrely, she nodded. This seemed like a perfectly acceptable answer.

"Can we talk? Outside?" he asked her.

The glow in Jace's eyes seemed to expand and cover his entire body. He was so gloriously beautiful she knew she was lost. She would do anything he asked. She mutely nodded again and moved to get up when she felt Raphael's hand hold her back.

"Where are you going?" he whispered.

"Talking to Jace. Outside," she told him.

Fortunately, the movie had started and Clary was grateful Jonathan had selected a super hero movie with all the requisite thunderous cacophony and nonstop action sequences that seemed to have all the movie goers engrossed. Although she could not imagine anything more captivating than the sublime creature that sat next to her and waited for her and had her quivering inside and out.

"I'm coming with you," Raphael let her go and moved forward. This time Clary held him back.

"No, I need to speak to Jace, alone," she explained.

"No, you don't. I promised your brother I'd take care of you. I'm certain that includes keeping you away from him," Raphael pronounced the words very clearly considering he was gritting his teeth.

"Listen, Raphael, I love my brother and I would do just about anything for him but he doesn't own me and neither do you. Do not follow me," Clary seethed a little. Then, she got up decisively and tripped over Jace's legs.

He easily held her up with one arm extended, set her back upright, then got up himself and shuffled down the aisle to the exit. Clary trailed behind him and was relieved that Raphael had listened and stayed in his seat. Somewhere in the back of her mind she regretted hurting him. She knew she hurt him. But she was beginning to acknowledge the disturbing truth that Jace owned her. Literally and figuratively, in every way possible. She had really tried to fight it. God knows she did. But whatever this madness was that took complete control over her could not be denied. She knew she would follow wherever he led and he would probably get bored with her and leave her a wreck. But the way her body and soul ached for him left her no choice.

They left the cinema room and Jace moved into a shadowy alcove, then turned to face her. The moment took on a dreamy quality. Nothing was clear, nothing seemed real, least of all him. He lifted his hands slowly then gently placed them on either side of her face. His arms moved inward, leading her closer into him. And then he lowered his head down to hers. His lips lightly brushed her lips. They barely touched but it instantly ignited a searing need inside her. She stretched her arms up, put her hands around his wide shoulders and pulled him into her. He was at least a foot taller than her but their bodies molded into each other perfectly. Their kiss transformed from the lightest sweep of lips into an insatiable hunger that had their mouths joined and moving as one. Clary felt tears well up behind her lids. She hoped she would never wake up from this dream.


	6. Chapter 6 Kisses and Shadows

When they finally broke apart, his hands were still holding her face but now their eyes were open and fixed on each other. She had moved her hands off his shoulders and over his hands so that both their hands framed her face.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed and took her breath away. "I've wanted to do that since that first day we met," he moved his face closer into hers.

They were only inches apart. She knew it came from some ancient song, but it was true, she could see forever in his eyes. I love you, her eyes told him. I belong to you. She couldn't speak. She only watched him. She didn't want to blink and lose one second of the sight of him.

"I heard this was your first date and I knew I had to give you your first kiss," he told her.

Okay, she thought. I'm okay with that. She only looked at him, her eyes bright and wide. She didn't let him go and he didn't let her go.

"I know … your brother doesn't want me with you but I … need you," he said.

She shuddered with pleasure. A feeling of rightness, completeness overwhelmed her.

"Are you cold?" he asked her, a crease forming between his brows.

She shook her head slowly no and dropped her eyes. He lifted her face up until she gazed back at him.

"Don't look away," he whispered. "When you look at me, I feel … whole, like nothing is missing, like everything I've ever needed is here, right here."

She let her eyelids close as he moved down in her and just as their lips met again, a lightning charge of want burning through her body, she heard Raphael's voice.

"What," Raphael spoke sharply, "are you doing?"

Clary turned to him and could physically feel the anger stream out of him.

"I'm sorry, Raphael," she managed, clearing her throat at the same time. She was sorry to hurt him, to disappoint him. The look on his face was clear.

"Are you out of your mind?" The outrage in Raphael's voice was unmistakable. "I'm your date. Did you forget you came here with a date?"

His hands balled into tight fists. Jace let her go and moved in front of her but she quickly stepped forward so that they were side by side. There was no way she was going to let them fight over her.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I can't even begin to explain," her voice broke. "I don't understand it myself."

She felt a course of tears falling from her eyes. It was impossible to tell what she was feeling. Raphael looked stricken and took a step back. His hands remained in fists but he was not so tightly wound up anymore.

"This really sucks," Raphael fumed at her. "I would have been really good to you."

And then she knew what she felt. It was sorrow and remorse.

"Raphael, you're still my friend. I hope you'll still be my friend," she begged softly.

Raphael's black eyes glittered like bright stones. The pain she saw in them were raw and harsh.

"I don't think so," he answered.

"Raph," Jace called out to him just as he started to turn and leave them.

Raphael had his head down. His body seemed slumped over but the frown stayed on his face.

"I'm sorry too, man," Jace told him.

Raphael didn't say anything or turn up his head to look at either of them but Clary could see a swirl of emotions cross his face.

"If you run into Kaelie," Jace's voice changed, taking on a jocular tone, "you might want to take her home. It would be really great if you could. She told me she's so horny she'd definitely do the guy she leaves with."

Raphael's face turned blank and then he looked up at both of them. "Seriously, Jace? You're seriously trading dates, now?"

Clary had to agree with Raphael's incredulity. It was pretty crass. Her own eyes turned up to Jace. Yes, she was still completely enamored but apparently that didn't mean she couldn't recognize when he was being an ass.

"No," Jace immediately grew apologetic. "That's not what I meant," he answered Raphael but directed his self-reproach at Clary. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make sure she gets home safe and I'm not lying. She really said that."

The frown returned on Raphael's face. "Are you really that stupid? Kaelie may have said that to you. She probably didn't intend that remark to be a public offer." Raphael turned back to Clary. "I think you should come with me. Don't worry. Our date is over. I'll just take you home."

Resentment was clear in his tone and stance and of course Clary didn't blame him for it. Clary stiffened and took a step toward Raphael. Jace pulled her back.

"Don't go," he said softly.

"Raphael's right. You came with her and you should take her home," Clary managed to say the words.

"You don't understand," Jace ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I told her I was coming and she asked me for a ride, told me I had to bring a date. Then, when we got here, I told her I might be leaving soon so she'd have to get a ride home with someone else if I couldn't find her. That's when she told me, in front of quite a crowd of people, and loudly, I might add, that she'd jump anyone who took her home," Jace explained. "And for the record, I'm pretty sure everyone there considered that statement a public offer since I left her with four or five guys who seemed very interested in taking her home afterwards."

"Oh," said Clary, "Well, that changes things."

Jace visibly breathed out with relief. "If it will make you feel better, I'll go look for her, take her home, but please, come with us. I'll take you home afterwards."

Clary was surprised and looked at him with wonder. It was hard to imagine a more awkward and less likely threesome. A vision of the horror on Kaelie's face almost made her want to agree to his proposal.

"So, you want to take Clary and have her watch you and Kaelie all over each other?" Raphael asked, disgust plain on his face.

Clary swung around at him. "I'm sure that's not what Jace means." Then she turned back to Jace. "Is it?"

Although this scenario was not something she ever considered, it did not seem so farfetched for Jace, now that she mulled over his lothario reputation. His mouth opened but he was speechless. Clary stared at his perfect pink lips and couldn't help thinking about how it felt to have them softly linger over he own and then pressed down hard against her mouth and how amazing it felt, every second, every moment they touched had her entire body so highly sensitized she thought she would burst from the stimulation.

Clary realized that somehow they were now standing face to face, almost, but not quite pressed against each other. She did not know if she had moved toward him or if he moved to her but his hand was now fingering the curls on the left side of her face and tucked them back behind her ear.

"I forgot what I was about to say," he said simply but there was a slight tremor in his voice. "You make me forget everything," he told her.

"So this is what you want?" Raphael demanded and stirred her out of the trance that kept drawing her into Jace.

Clary took a step back. Her mind was incapable of functioning this close to him. She was suddenly certain it was probably the worst idea to go anywhere with Jace alone.

"Maybe I should leave now," she kept her face down, "with Raphael."

"Why?" he asked, his voice low.

"Because I'm afraid of what will happen when I'm with you," she answered truthfully.

She heard him breathe heavily and then, "I would never do anything you didn't want me to do," he said and there was such a gentle, pleading quality to his voice that it filled her heart.

She knew she would be powerless against him but she lifted her eyes to meet his golden stare and just spoke from her heart. "It's me. It's not you. I don't trust myself around you."

"Why am I here?" Raphael's terse voice broke in. "I have no idea why I'm here right now."

Clary watched him pace back and forth.

"You both make me sick," he spoke fiercely. "I thought you were … something special," he glared at Clary, "but you'd just toss me aside to be with him," he gestured angrily at Jace, "and everyone knows he'll break your heart. How can you be so stupid?"

Clary shook her head. It was very painful to hear Raphael say these things that she had been carrying around inside herself. She didn't deny anything. She was stupid. He would break her heart. It was all true.

"What the hell are you saying?" now Jace looked livid.

"Please, don't," she urge him. "Don't fight. Not about me. Raphael is right. I know it. I've always known it."

The look on Jace's face startled her.

"Why would you say that? Why would you think that?" The anguish in his voice squeezed her heart.

Clary only wanted to remove the pain from his face. She rushed over to him and clutched his hands. "Don't do that … I … only every want to see you happy."

Clary heard Raphael storm away but did not turn around to watch him. I'm doomed, she thought vaguely but could only see the gold in Jace's eyes mirror her own image and she looked like a stranger to herself. A fiery redhead, wild, untamed, copper curls around her face, great big green eyes, thoroughly entranced and entrancing; for a moment, Clary even wondered who she was. Raphael had been a life boat, a small but strong floating vessel that she briefly hung onto amidst a merciless, unceasing storm in the deepest, most torrential waters that threatened to wipe away everything she knew and depended on. And she had let it go. She had let him go. She let her head drop and fall into Jace's chest when his strong arms pulled her into him and held her body up.

She may as well jump head first at this point, so she let her body respond the way it begged to, pressing her body against his, wrapping her arms around his waist. It was heaven. Not at all like the mind blowing passion that scattered her senses and thoughts when his lips touched her but it felt like … she had finally found exactly what she needed, what she had always been searching for and never, ever wanted to let go. She had no idea how long they held each other.

"Who are you?" he asked her quietly. "How did you do this?"

She kept her eyes closed and lifted her head, breathing a sigh of relief when his lips met hers with the lightest touch. The heady rush swiftly intoxicated her and as she pushed against him to fit every ridge and valley on his body, he moved into her until they were pressed against the wall, deep into the shadows, securely hidden from view. His arms snaked around her waist, holding her up tightly so that she no longer had to keep her head stretched up to meet his mouth. She wanted to feel him, all of him, all over her, and didn't think about what she was doing or inviting him to do when she opened her legs and wrapped them around his waist. It was shocking how much that one action seemed to inflame them both and had them pulsing against each other. Their movements might have been frenzied if they were not so perfectly coordinated and aligned with each other.

She was still sliding up and down him when he finally turned his face down, lowering his lips onto her neck, breathing heavily.

"Please stop," he begged her. "We can't do this here." His lips moved against her neck and made it impossible for her to remember who and where she was.

"Oh my God," she stopped abruptly. "I think the movie ended."

A steady stream of people were leaving the cinema room they had departed in what seemed like only minutes ago but had to be more than two hours. She relaxed when she realized no one seemed to take any notice of them. They were too far into the shadows to be seen. And then she realized how her legs were straddled around his waist and how she could feel every line of his incredible body flush against her. She did a quick sensory check and at that point was able to exhale once she confirmed, yes, she had managed to keep her clothes on, yes, her underwear was where it should be, yes, she was still a virgin. Although that was unlikely to last, not at the breakneck pace their kisses turned into full-on, hands all over, bodies all over, make-out session.

She slowly unstrapped her legs and pulled off him but his arms stayed tight around her and kept her above the floor.

"You've got an amazing body," he whispered in her ear. "No one has ever stayed on top of me half that long." The way his breath felt against her ear made her feel like she could just pour herself all over him, completely saturating him.

And then she got annoyed. "So proud to take that record," she slung off him then forcing him to release her onto the ground.

"We better go." She wanted him. God knows she wanted him but … she didn't want to be another notch on his bedpost. The idea he was measuring her prowess to other … partners … pissed her off. "I don't want to run into my brother."

The chill in her blood almost instantly melted when he took her hands, lowered his head to look unblinkingly down at her and asked her sweetly if he said something wrong. He only meant to tell her she had an awesome body. But then, Kaelie came out of the cinema room, loudly looking for Jace.

"Where is Jace?" she whined at a friend who trailed after her.

"I don't know. I can take you home." The friend was a guy.

"I thought you came here with Sarah?" Kaelie turned around to look back at him. Another football player. One that her brother pegged a loser and never bothered to introduce to her.

"She can get a ride with her sister. She's working here tonight," he shrugged and smiled easily at Kaelie.

Clary cringed when Jace tugged her out of the alcove, her hand gripped in his, while he moved forward to speak to Kaelie.

His long legs covered ground quickly so Clary felt she was running to keep up with him or have her arm pulled out of its socket. Thank God she wore the flats.

"Kaelie," Jace called out. "I'm here."

"Jace!" Kaelie's fact lit up and she jumped a little before she bounced to meet him. Her big breasts jogged up and down under a tight sweater with ample cleavage displayed. She was about to wrap her arms around his neck when he simultaneously held her back with his free hand and she finally noticed Clary. Her long, heavily mascaraed lashes made her wide eyes appear even wider. She looked like a cartoon character, completely flummoxed.

"What are you doing with her?" Kaelie asked, her voice turning high and screeching.

"I'm leaving now, Kaelie," Jace told her calmly. "If you want, I'll take you home and then I'll drop Clary off."

Kaelie's mouth dropped open. "You're joking, right? I know you're joking."

No, Kaelie. Are you coming?" Jace had turned away from Kaelie and his body was now suddenly right up next to Clary. The heat that flowed between their bodies when they touched took an uncompromising hold of her and she couldn't stop herself from molding herself against him and slowly letting her eyes rise up to meet his. They were very close to each other, their hands tightly in each other's grasp, their fingers interlaced, when she heard a growl that was both terrifying and comforting.

"Clarissa Adele Fairchild, what the fuck happened to your date?" Jonathan's voice was low and threatening.

Clary had never heard him sound so menacing. And yet it was her brother. She knew him inside and out. She knew he only ever wanted her safe and she knew, without question, Jace was dangerous.

Still, it took a few seconds to break her gaze with Jace and face Jonathan. Yup, he was mad, real mad. And strangely that did not make her break into a small panic the way it normally might. In fact, she felt confident and completely able to stand up to her brother and then she understood. Having Jace's hand in hers seemed to allow her to share his strength and conviction. Everything was right. Nothing could hurt her. Not with Jace immovable and secure at her side.

"Jace is taking me home, after he drops Kaelie off," she told her brother.

Jonathan's face turned purple, "What the –"

"Jonathan, I'll still be home almost an hour before curfew. You can meet me there. You'll see," she said firmly.

Jonathan's mouth snapped shut. He glared at both of them and finally seemed to notice Seelie tugging at his elbow.

"Johnny," she said quiety, "I thought you were taking me to dinner." Her blue green eyes bore into his. Clary could see he would have to make a critical, make or break a relationship decision.

He turned back to Clary, the rage in his face only moments ago had turned into a sheepish and confused expression. "You better be home when I get back," he said slowly and clearly, his green eyes unwavering at Clary. "And I will kill you if anything happens to her," he turned his gaze to Jace.

A shadow seemed to pass through his eyes that made them appear black for the barest moment. Then he finally stalked away with Seelie on his arm. She cast a backwards glance at Clary and Jace, her expression completely unconcerned but maliciously amused.


	7. Chapter 7 Your Girlfriend

**Thank you for the reviews. Love them!**

 **Don't know how long this story will go on but I don't have an endgame in mind yet. Just going with the flow and right now it's flowing.**

 **Thinking at some point, I'll start over with a Jace POV, but we shall see …**

* * *

Clary watched her brother walk away with a strange mix of feelings. There was a sense of freedom that she had never known before. It felt as if the world had suddenly gotten bigger, like there was so much more space around her. And then she felt a little lost. The one person who had always been her safe harbor was leaving her. Of course, she asked him to, had wanted him to, but some part of her had not actually believed he would acquiesce. Finally, there was the urge to laugh, great big gulping laughs at her brother's oddly disjointed steps, woodenly striding away with Seelie. Clary could tell he was conflicted and even his very last step out of the theater was uncertain as if he might reverse himself at any moment and come right back to retrieve her but he made it out the door with Seelie's arm securely tucked in his. Clary wasn't sure what he saw in her. Sure, she was beautiful, but he had dated plenty of pretty girls, nice girls, not one tenth the commanding bitch that Seelie obviously was and yet she also had a way of keeping Jonathan in line that Clary had never believed possible. Clary wondered if Seelie could perhaps be convinced to provide lessons, "How to Tame the Untameable Man."

She turned to Jace cautiously once she lost sight of Jonathan. She had an overwhelming feeling she would need those lessons. My God, he is just so hot, she thought and gulped. Their hands were still tightly entwined and he was standing there, utterly magnificent, mouth wateringly sexy as hell, staring at her. Oh no, he was unleashing the look. It made her clothes feel terribly constricting. It made her want to peel everything off her body and then glide up and down him, every inch of him.

"I know what this is," Kaelie announced confidently. "This is your crazy, fucked up way of asking me to Prom." Kaelie slithered up to Jace and ran her fingers up his arm onto his shoulder. "Every year you guys have to take it another step farther. But Jace, I really don't think this is all that funny and it's not putting me in the mood." The way Kaelie propped her breasts up and coyly lowered her lashes at him seemed to belie her words.

Jace pulled away from her, landing further into Clary and pushing her back with him. "Kaelie, that's more than six months away. No, no, this is not an invitation to the Prom."

"Well, it's something. I know it's something," Kaelie squinted her eyes, clearly attempting to uncover the mystery.

"Yeah, it's me dropping you off before I take Clary home," Jace said patiently. He placed a hand on her back to lead her to the exit.

When Jace opened the backseat door for Kaelie, the bewildered look on her face transformed back to a peevish but knowing irritation.

"You're seriously just going to keep this up?" Kaelie asked then shook her head and got into the backseat. She then proceeded to take a compact vanity out of her purse and redo her makeup.

Jace opened the front passenger door for Clary and they were forced to part hands then. She thanked him and stepped into the car. What was she doing? Was she willing to share Jace? He had a girlfriend so what was she? Would he break up with this other girl? Why did she get into Jace's car? What would happen after they dropped Kaelie off? Would Raphael ever forgive her?

The questions and worry vanished from her head when Jace took her hand after he got into the car and started it. His long fingers felt so right between her own fingers. The feel of his skin on hers made every other care fly away. She turned to face him. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the nose. She quickly looked away but smiled. She knew if she kept ogling him she would have to kiss him and she had enough compassion even for Kaelie not to subject her to that.

The drive to Kaelie's home felt remarkably fast. To the very end, Kaelie seemed convinced someone would jump out with a camera, confirming it was all a big setup. Jace left her at her doorstep after being forced to walk her out of the car. She had reached up to kiss him but he swiftly took her arms off his neck and patted her arms, nodded goodbye and came back to the car. It was only when they drove away and Clary glanced back at Kaelie from the mirror that she could see a horrified realization on Kaelie's face, who then whirled around and stomped into her home. Clary felt relief course through her blood. It was only then she knew she had feared Kaelie might run after them. Then, Clary noticed the car had stopped. They were not moving. She looked around. They were parked in front of a playground. No, this was not her home.

"Jace, do you need directions? I think it's a few blocks that way …" she pointed to their right and moved her head to face Jace.

Her head was firmly held in place by both his hands and his lips felt incredibly smooth and warm when they caressed her own lips. She leaned into him at the same time he pulled her to him. His hands travelled slowly up and down her body. A coiling desire was tightening inside her. It took everything she had to push him away. It was barely a nudge back but he immediately responded and moved away, his head held up, his breathing heavy, and looked down at her, his golden eyes half hooded by long golden lashes. She quickly turned her head and put a hand over her mouth. She could not look at him.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I just had to kiss you. I promise you I can control myself."

"I don't want you to control yourself," she whispered. "I don't want to control myself." She put a hand out to stop him when she felt him moving toward her again. "But I have to know," she said quickly. She knew it only took a flashing moment, a mere glance of his eyes to make her wits leave her and have her desperate for his touch. She studiously avoided his eyes.

"What is it? What do you want? Whatever it is, it's yours," his voice came out in a rough hush. His hands were at her ribcage, light stroking back and forth. It stirred up the liquid fire inside her and made her breathing uneven.

"What am I? To you? Am I anything? Am I supposed to be a friend? I mean … I'm guessing … we aren't … exclusive?" she was afraid she squeaked out the last word but was grateful she managed to get it out. The heavy sound of their breathing seemed to fill the enclosed space. At least I'm not the only one panting, she thought.

Jace's hands stopped moving and he slowly pulled them away. Oh no. She was afraid this would happen. As soon as she tried to define the relationship he would pull away. She wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want him to stop touching her. She didn't know if she could survive without his kisses now that she knew what they felt like. It was like air, water and food to her now.

"Please," she turned back to face him. "Don't stop. Don't stop wanting me."

His fingertips were still around her waist and they moved back around her to cage her into his wide grip. Then his mouth came down over hers. She held onto him for dear life. She thought they may very well devour each other, the way their mouths lustily sucked on each other as if they were starving for each other. She had her hands underneath his thin shirt, tracing over every fine and well defined line across his torso, up and down his chest, when he threw himself back into his seat almost violently.

"We … we … have to talk," his hands gripped the seat below him and he stared straight ahead.

Her brain was too fried to understand why he had stopped. Her hands were still stretched out, now in midair. It felt awful. Just a second ago, they had been kneading the hard firm flesh on his perfect body and now her fingers curled into the air. She sat back into her own seat, her mind spinning. She noticed then that her dress hung oddly off her shoulders and a bra strap was visibly hanging down. The recollection of his strong, gentle hands over her breasts made her gasp. The way he traced his fingers below their swell and then over the tips and then fondled them softly and then more urgently while she gripped his bare pectoral muscles. She wasn't sure if she would ever catch her breath again. Jace did not turn to look at her. He still breathed heavily and kept his eyes intently focused in the distance ahead of him. Clary searched out the windshield trying to see what he saw out there.

"The thing is," Jace started in a low voice, "I think it's pretty obvious at this point, I'll take you however I can get you … I don't know what this thing is between us." He stopped and seemed to struggle to find the words. "I only know I need to be near you. I need to touch you and kiss you and … it's not just a physical thing … it's like my soul can't rest without you. I know I won't be able to watch you with someone else. I will beat down anyone who puts their hands on you … so I guess … I'm saying … I don't know how to handle this nonexclusive thing you mentioned."

Clary watched him, her eyes growing bigger and rounder the more he spoke. "But, Jace …"

Jace closed his eyes. "No, Clary, you have to understand … if you … want to see … other guys, you'll have to … make sure I never know about it. I just … I can't …"

"Jace," she leaned into his ear. "I only want you. How can you think I could ever want anyone else?"

His eyes flung open then and he turned to face her.

"I know about your girlfriend, Jace," she told him and sat back in her seat watching him carefully.

"My …" Jace looked puzzled.

"Jonathan met her. Remember?" she tried really hard not to sound accusing. At least she would finally know what they were supposed to be to each other.

And then Jace burst out laughing. It was so gleeful and positively infectious she couldn't help smiling with him even if she felt completely stupid about it. She tried to force a stern countenance but Jace grabbed her face then and kissed her so fervently that there was no way she could maintain a frigid distance. But then Jace started laughing again and he pulled his mouth off hers and held her fast against him, his head buried in the curls over her shoulder.

"That's my best friend. I've known her since we were ten. You should meet. She's … not into guys. She tells everyone she's my girlfriend but it's pretty blatantly obvious we are not romantically involved," he trembled in her arms. Clary couldn't tell if he was still laughing or if it was something else.

"Is that … is that why you've been running from me?" he whispered into her neck.

She nodded slowly. She was trying her best to process this new information. Jace did not have a girlfriend. Jace had a lesbian best friend who called herself his girlfriend. And … and … what did he want with her? He didn't want her to see other guys. He had to be near her, to touch her, to kiss her.

"Jace, does that mean … am I your girlfriend? Like a romantic girlfriend?" she asked quietly. She was very afraid of his answer but she had to know. She could not go another minute in this suspense.

He lifted his face off her shoulder until they were face to face. They were breathing each other in, literally. They were so close, she breathed in the air he released and he breathed in the air that came out of her lungs.

"I'm whatever you want me to be," he told her, their eyes connected and locked on one another.

She felt a surge building up inside her, it was exhilarating and she didn't know how to contain it. She knew he had to see it in her eyes and incredibly she could see the same unrestrained joy reflected in his eyes.

"I want to be your girlfriend. I want you to be my boyfriend," she said decisively, "and no one else. It's absolutely exclusive. I never want to see another girl running her hands all over you."

"You're irresistible. Did you know that?" the words hushed out of him. "I'm crazy about you."

Their lips met, very gently this time and it was so silky soft, so warm and so perfect, Clary knew she was completely lost.

The sound of a beeping alarm slowly registered in her head. What the hell is that, she thought. Jace was busy leaving lingering, sweet, wet kisses on her bare shoulders and neck while she gasped at the air trying her best to calm her racing heart. Suddenly, he seemed to hear the beeping and pulled his head off her and sat up but still held her encased in his arms so that they were both rapidly and dizzyingly upright. Their increasingly heated kisses had drawn them in a rather uncomfortable lateral position with Jace's long body somehow reaching over the passenger side seat, lying blissfully on top of her. Their bodies always seemed to know how to fit into one another despite the automotive fixtures that had their bodies contorted over to conform against.

"Shit," Jace growled out but lay another long kiss that sucked lightly on her collarbone. "We have ten minutes before your curfew."

"Shit," Clary opened her eyes and unraveled herself out of his embrace. "What the … what happened to my dress?" She wasn't sure if she should be embarrassed. She felt amazingly hot, like she was burning up and of course it was only natural to shed your clothes under such scorching conditions. She still had it on but it had come off her top and was pooled around her waist. Oh, interesting, her bra was also barely hanging on. The straps had been pulled down and the cups were pushed down barely covering her nipples. Her legs were of course wrapped around Jace's waist and the top button on his jeans had come off, the zipper undone halfway, but that seemed to be the extent of the damage. Without a specific recollection of her movements, Clary still knew she had been the one to pull off her dress and undo his pants. This had to be a sickness. How could she just black out like this every time they started kissing. Evidently her body kept her mind shut down when they started to go at it. It knew what it wanted and didn't want her stupid mind interfering.

She gently moved off him and sank back into her own seat, pulling herself and her clothing together. Jace had his eyes closed and his hands were opening and closing while his breathing steadied.

"Okay, let's go," Jace opened his eyes and grinned down at her.

He kept his eyes carefully on the road. Fortunately she did not live far away and they made it to her home with a minute to spare.

"I better go," she turned to face him. The air between them seemed to expand and contract as if they belonged in a different dimension, just the two of them, completely alone. She jumped out of the car and ran up the front steps. She knew without a shadow of a doubt another second staring at Jace would have her flat on her back doing the unthinkable in front of her house.

"Clary!" he called out to her and the way he slid out of the car and stood next to the open door made her weak. He was molten gold with all its blazing heat, blinding beauty and liquid grace.

"I …," he seemed to puzzle over what to say. "I'll pick you up? Tomorrow morning? Seven thirty?"

She smiled at him and nodded. Then fumbled with the lock, ran through the door and right into her brother.

"You said you'd be home an hour ago," he was still mad.

Oh Good God! What was his problem?

"I'm still back before my curfew … look, it's … okay, it's five after but that's very close," she conceded. She hoped he couldn't see the deranged infatuation that was sure to be written all over her face. She had to take a shower … immediately. She would seriously go up in flames if she let herself think about Jace and let's face it, she was not going to be able to stop thinking about him or his full, plump lips or his enthralling eyes or his white hot hard body or his smooth sun kissed skin or his long, graceful fingers. The list could go on and on and she felt her body perk up involuntarily at just the thought of him.

"What were you doing?" Jonathan asked suspiciously.

Clary looked him over a little cross eyed. "My dear, Jonathan. I can promise you I did nothing you wouldn't do with your darling, Seelie. Now, if you'll excuse me," she made an impressive show of prancing regally around him when she made it to the stairs.

"What happened to your dress?" he asked. His voice was dry and bland but Clary knew she was heading over treacherous territory.

"What do you mean?" she asked nonchalantly. She tried to turn her head to her back to see what captured Jonathan's interest.

"I mean it's halfway unzipped and there's a tear on the side," his voice was still calm but Clary knew she had to proceed with extreme caution.

"Oh," she sighed casually. "I tripped. It must have come a bit undone and ripped then. I'm such a klutz sometimes."

Jonathan watched her severely but did not say anymore.

She continued up the steps then stopped halfway. "You know, Jonathan, that girl you saw with Jace, the one you said was his girlfriend?"

Jonathan looked a little disconcerted then. "Yeah? What about her?"

Clary knew she had him then. "Well, she's not. She's his best friend. He said anyone can tell they are not together, not that way." She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and then directed her unflinching gaze down at him. "So you couldn't tell … that they weren't together, not that way?"

"She's a girl, a girl I don't know. She told me she was his girlfriend. End of story," Jonathan answered drily.

"Alright … Johnny, if that's what you say," she smirked at him imitating Seelie's upscale accentuations.

He narrowed his eyes at her. Clary wondered if she went too far. Then he started laughing.

"I hate it when she calls me that," he sighed, shaking his head. His face turned serious again. "Do you know what you're doing, Clary?"

Clary shrugged. "No, no idea."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I don't think you want to start your romantic experiences with this guy, Clary. I've heard a lot about him and how he goes through girls. I know you. You won't be able to shake it off like other girls."

Clary tried not to look perturbed. "Don't worry, I'm just using him for his body. Have you seen his butt?" She winked at him then ran up the stairs to her room before Jonathan could say another word.


	8. Chapter 8 Morning Rush

Clary locked her door and fell face first into her bed. Alone in her room her thoughts naturally gravitated to Jace. And of course that got her hot and bothered. She pulled off her dress and lay flat on her back in her underwear. Her fingers skimmed the places that he had touched, her lips, her collarbone, her breasts, her waist. God, she wanted him. It was unbelievable, really. How did someone go from what she had been, someone completely uninterested in sex, the opposite sex, attracting any attention, hiding from it in fact, to this, so much wanting, a painful, throbbing want that would not go away. She leaped off her bed and ran into the shower. She had to cool off. What would she do? She couldn't keep her hands off him. The only precautionary measure she could think of was impossible. She could hardly ask her brother to chaperone their dates. Someone would die. Perhaps Simon and Izzy? No, no, she had to learn some self control. There was no way Jace could respect her if she kept tearing her clothes off every time they were alone. She would have to force herself to think about something horrible when they started kissing; physics maybe, algebra, the slimy meatloaf Aunt Hodge made every Wednesday, Jonathan's smelly socks. And of course, the thought of his kisses had her panting again.

She was sitting in front of the large mirror on top of her dresser when she heard a ping telling her she just received a text message. She dug her phone out of her purse. Hmmm, several messages from Izzy. And there, the latest one, from Jace! Clary didn't remember giving him her number or having his number on her phone. She supposed this must have happened during one of those moments she sat there, slack jawed, gawking at him.

"I miss you," it read, "Send me a picture."

A giggle escaped her lips. She plopped down on her bed, keeping her head and chest up on her elbows and then snapped a picture of herself. Her hair was wet and the curls were loose but beginning to form ringlets as they dried. She had a white bathrobe on and her face was completely bare of any makeup but her hear expanded with so much happiness and longing and just so much Jace that her smile was wide and beaming. She didn't think twice before she sent him the picture with the message, "I'll dream of you."

There was no return message for a while and she began to worry she had scared him off with her sheer exuberance and then, "You make my heart stop. Can't wait to see you tomorrow. The real me is infinitely better than any dream but sweet dreams, Angel."

* * *

Jonathan watched Clary agape, revealing a mouthful of cereal and milk. She sprinted around the kitchen preparing her lunch and stuffing a granola bar in her mouth at the same time. His green eyes followed her rapid movements but she hardly noticed him or considered what must be crossing his mind.

She woke up late, too keyed up to sleep until almost two in the morning. A series of increasingly delusional, sleep deprived tests were sent late into the night where she went over her entire schedule and workout plans for the following date (a circuit boot camp class), her favorite subjects (Art and English) and teacher (Mr. Graymark for English) before she finally passed out with kisses and star emoji's her last message to Jace.

"What's the rush?" Jonathan finally swallowed. "I'm not leaving for another twenty."

"Oh," Clary attempted an airy demeanor. "I'm leaving a little earlier."

She glanced through the kitchen window. The ensuing smile on her face could not be contained when she saw Jace's car roll into the driveway.

"Well, I'm outty," she shoved her lunch into her bag and raced out the front door. Keeping Jonathan and Aunt Hodge unaware of her ride was forefront on her mind. She hoped beyond hope that Jace would not honk his horn to signal his arrival.

"Oof," she ran headfirst into Jace's unyielding chest and almost collapsed backwards. Fortunately, he had a knack for catching her so she found herself safely ensconced in his arms instead.

"Why does this keep happening?" she wondered aloud. She never used to have such difficulty staying on her feet.

"Does this happen a lot? I mean, I know I've caught you from falling several times myself but I figured I just had that effect on you," he gave her his heart stopping grin and Clary could practically hear the dizzying whoosh spiral through her head.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Jace looked confused. "What do you mean? I told you I'd pick you up."

"No, I mean here, by the door?" Clary opened her hands and swung her arms out.

"Isn't it obvious? I came to escort my fair lady to her chariot," he grinned down at her.

"Oh," she nodded. She hadn't expected Jace to do that for her.

"Well, give me some sugar, then. It's the least you can do after I've saved you from terrible injury once again," he leaned down into her, his arms still firmly around her rib cage.

If she had been capable of rational thought, she would have refused. They were in front of her house for cripe's sake but since she was already in the now familiar oblivious state she inevitably fell into once she met his eyes she did not hesitate to wrap her hands around his neck and fit her mouth perfectly over his.

"Miss Clary, what the devil is going on here?" Aunt Hodge demanded.

It might have alarmed her if she wasn't held up in Jace's strong arms, pressed tightly against his body, her own arms locked over his shoulders.

Clary lifted her eyes drowsily and turned to her aunt, "Oh hey. This is Jace, my boyfriend?"

She looked back at Jace uncertainly and felt herself getting sucked into the mesmerizing pull of eyes again. This had to stop. She weakly pushed off him and felt the ground beneath her feet but their hands came together automatically and she knew she could totally handle the situation even with her brother now standing at the open doorway, his expression irate.

"Miss Clary, that doesn't look like the fella who took you out last night," Aunt Hodge gave Jace the old fish eye for sure.

Well, Jace took me home and now we're together," Clary stated matter of factly. She knew she couldn't look at Jace unless she wanted to showcase how entirely spellbound he had her but she desperately wanted to read his reaction to her declaration. She hoped they were okay. Aunt Hodge appeared to grow bug eyed as her eyes moved between Clary and Jace.

"Clary, get back in the house," Jonathan ordered. "I'm taking you to school. Jace isn't taking you anywhere until he can prove himself worthy.

Clary started giggling. "Shall we test him in the rings of fire, my lord brother? Surely, if he doth slay the fearsome dragon he is worthy of my hand."

"What?!" Jonathan scowled at her but she could see him suppressing a smile.

Aunt Hodge cackled loudly. "So, you upgraded your date? And this all happened last night, during your first date?" She gave Jace a knowing look. "If I were you, I'd watch out for her. I'd be worried who was coming after me." She laughed even harder when he responded with a troubled and vexed looked at her aunt.

Aunt Hodge abruptly stopped laughing and turned a stony gaze at Clary. "I don't like the looks of this one. The other one was bad enough but this one," she shook her head warningly. "Remember what I've taught you. Go ahead and play but never trust."

Clary noted with amazement that Jonathan appeared to agree with their aunt although his frown deepened when she said 'play' but he nodded emphatically when she advised her not to trust.

"Ok, Aunt Hodge," Clary dutifully nodded and pulled Jace back to his car.

"And don't get knocked up," Aunt Hodge continued loudly. "I ain't taking care of no squalling teenage baby mama baby."

Clary kept backing away while Jonathan turned various shades of red, started to sputter at Clary and then succumbed to a vigorous coughing. It was the best time to escape. Whatever Jonathan was trying to say, Clary felt certain the word 'forbid' would be featured prominently and she could do without any further embarrassment from her family.

"I'm going to the gym after school … as usual," she stressed fearing another cringeworthy remark from her aunt. "I'll be back around four."

"Mark my words, Miss Clary!" Aunt Hodge yelled out. "That boy's a panty dropper and what's worse … he's a heartbreaker. Keep your head straight."

Clary tried to make herself invisible, sinking as far back into the car seat as she could possibly manage.

"So long!" Jace cheerfully called out as he drove the car out of the driveway. "It was nice to meet you!"

Clary let out a long sigh of relief once the vision of her aunt, gray hair flying out of a bun tilted askew at the top of her head, shaking a fist at them both, had finally disappeared from view.

"What was that?" Jace asked. He seemed amused.

"That … is Aunt Hodge," Clary kept her eyes out the window. "I don't know what you may know about me and Jonathan but we have no parents. They died a long time ago, car accident. Aunt Hodge has been our guardian ever since. She had a bad experience with a man, a wayward ex-husband. So, she's very … wary about men … good looking men. She's got no problem with Bob, the mailman, or Fred at the grocery store."

"Oh," Jace said softly. "You know, I don't have parent's either."

Clary turned to him then and watched him as he drove. "Really? I'm sorry, Jace. I didn't know."

"I never knew them. My dad was a cop. Died in the line of duty while my mom was pregnant with me and then she got sick after I was born." Jace did not look at her. There was no emotion in his voice. "My grandmother raised me. Says he threw his life away. Says my grandfather and she had big plans for him, in the family business, but he didn't want it."

Clary knew there was nothing to say. It was an old wound. One that healed a long time ago but still ached when you touched it. He had a hand resting over the gears and she put her hand over his. He didn't say anything but turned his hand over, palm up, so that their fingers weaved around each other. She marveled at how well they fit together. Even her small slight fingers interlaced in his long graceful ones; they complimented each other. Her fingers fit snugly in the natural curves and ridges between his as if one was the lock and the other the key. She unconsciously lifted his hand, held up in her own, and pressed her lips against it. Holy shit, she thought. I just pulled a Simon. I am the dorkiest dork ever. She sheepishly lowered his hand and attempted to unobtrusively unlace their fingers when he curled his hand over hers and kept her hand firmly locked in his. She smiled but turned her head away.

"I've never told anyone that," Jace said quietly. "Alex knows but she figured it out on her own, after all these years hanging out with me and my grandmother likes her, tells her things."

They had reached the school but Jace did not park in the school parking lot. Instead he parked around the corner, an easy distance from the school but enough space away to afford some privacy.

"I want you to know. I want you to know me," he continued in the same low voice.

"I'm glad. I … I … like knowing you," she answered.

"Can I … kiss you?" he asked her.

Clary kept her eyes down but turned to face him when she nodded her assent. Ok, here goes, she thought. Weird slimy brown gravy poured over hunks of mushy ground beef slathered with ketchup goop, Jonathan's sweat drenched, yellow stained white tube socks … The cushiony feel of Jace's lips immediately had her body vibrating, an electric energy charging up her limbs and through her core. If someone could bottle him up, he could easily put all the energy booster drinks out of business. In fact, she could drink him up all day, all night. Hey, I think this may be working. I am managing to have cognizant thoughts while my mouth is attached to Jace and my hands … oh no … Clary turned her head away and withdrew her hands from the inner band of his jeans. I'm getting better at this, she thought encouragingly. At least I managed to stop on my own. True, she was mounted on top of him, he was bare chested, her shirt was lifted over her bra, she was plastered over him and he was stroking her back slowly while his smooth hard arms kept her captive in his embrace. So, it would take some practice, but it was an improvement. She smiled triumphantly and then felt herself closing her eyes and sinking back into Jace when he began grazing her neck with light kisses.

Clary weakly congratulated herself when she managed to remember who she was and what she was doing and then shifted herself off him. Unfortunately or fortunately, she could not decide which, Jace did not appear ready to let her go and pulled her back into him, their bodies pressed tight against each other, and proceeded to smother her neck with hungry kisses.

"Oh God, Jace," she cried out, her neck fell back when he brought one of his hand up, pulled off her hair clip and dug his fingers into her curls.

"We … we ... have to stop," she murmured and made a faint effort to move away.

"He responded with more kisses that travelled up her neck to her jaw then her earlobe. "Why?"

"Be … be … because … we'll miss class," she sputtered out. "And … and … holy shit," Clary finally found the strength to push off him and disconnect their bodies, landing back on the passenger seat. "My brother. He'll be looking for me. I know him. He will go batshit if he doesn't find me." She hastily pulled her shirt down, found Jace's shirt crumpled up between them, placed it on his lap and searched for her hair clip.

Jace sat motionless, breathing heavily. He seemed to calm in a few moments judging by a loud exhale and lack of panting but Clary did not look at him. She had to stay focused and that was close to impossible when her eyes took him in and basically had a field day looking him up and down, spurring all sorts of lascivious desires.

"So, what were you saying to your brother … about slaying a dragon?" he asked while he pulled his shirt on.

Her brain momentarily froze while she watched his muscles flexing into his shirt.

"Uh … oh … yeah .. that's just something we pretended when we were little kids," Clary explained. "When we first moved in with Aunt Hodge, she had a little drinking problem. So, we pretty much kept to ourselves, hiding in our rooms. We pretended she was a fire breathing dragon who kept us imprisoned. We used to come up with some really whacked out stories but … it was fun, with Jonathan. He made it fun. He's a good brother."

Clary huffed with exasperation. "Screw it. I'm not going to find that damn hair clip. I'll have to go in with Raggedy Ann hair."

Jace chuckled then reached for her hand. "You're gorgeous … and perfect. I love … your hair," he ended uncertainly. "Well, let's get going then," he said brightly and got out of the car.


	9. Chapter 9 Family and Friends

The weeks passed quickly and went very well. Life was good. It was actually spectacular. Every moment just seemed to get better and better … with Jace in her life. There had been a few bumps, a few swallow hard, get the lump down, I'm a wretched person moments. Like when she saw Raphael again. He had not come in that first day back to school but he showed up the following day. Not a word or a glance her way but the unbearable fog of anger and bitterness that seemed to linger around him the first few days had dissipated and by the end of the second week she saw him smiling with some friends. She did miss him. She missed the easy way he sat next to her at lunch, joined her conversations with Izzy and Simon and walked her to class.

And then there was the biting reproach from Izzy. Apparently she was no better than a runabout manwhore according to Izzy. She condemned the way Clary had treated poor sweet Raphael. She should have at least waited until after the date was over to break things off. The way Izzy carried on, Raphael was a downtrodden underdog who must be defended now that Izzy had developed a particular penchant for such cases, specifically the male kind. Clary was fairly certain this all came from Izzy's burgeoning but very strong affection for Simon. She did not believe anyone would consider Raphael an underdog of any kind. And for that matter, Simon hardly fit into that category either. Even before Izzy's influence he was skinny, gangly, a bit geeky but Clary recognized no more than her own inner geek, and positively cute. A few girls had even approached her about his relationship status and Clary had answered with vague insinuations about Izzy. This was all before their first date and there had been no good reason to turn the interested girls away other than Clary's sense that they belonged together.

And now, of course, no one had to ask if Simon was attached. He was almost always with Izzy and she had transformed him into a very desirable and definitely unavailable teenage male specimen. Gone were the slouchy jeans and jokey t-shirts. Of course, he dressed very well now and Izzy had convinced him to join her and Clary at the gym. He enjoyed that way more than the new clothes so he became a daily companion to Clary's workouts. Izzy still did not make it more than a two or three times a week habit so Clary was able to spend some time alone with Simon.

Clary loved Izzy but she had a great time with Simon. They got each other in a way that Izzy could not appreciate. The bonded over their shared love of comic books and their workouts were often interspersed with long arguments over who were the best superheroes, villains and what were the best powers. Superspeed, duh. Simon, however, was convinced it was all about the mind. Psy-powers, baby. Dumb, just dumb. Like you could catch me with your mind while I whip around you, faster than light. I can travel through time, you idiot, and beat you to a pulp. That was pretty much the substance of their conversations but it was always a lot of fun. They would usually race each other home, adding the run to their workouts, enacting their favorite storylines, hooting and hollering at each other. Simon always dropped her off. Clary thought they should take turns, giving Simon a break and a shorter run but he would never hear of it.

Clary was actually kind of glad Jace couldn't join them. Football practice after school had become a daily standard and if the team wasn't actually out running around on the field they were holed up together in the school gym. The coach made it mandatory and everyone counted on Jace. And no one seemed to mind how much time she spent with Simon. Certainly not Izzy who knew exactly how much Simon liked her and Clary was practically her sister after all. Besides, sometimes Izzy liked to do things without Simon attached to her hip, like shopping. He gladly accompanied her on her shopping expeditions but he had a tendency to make the trip something of an ordeal, refusing to try on the skinny jeans she picked out for him or the shiny sharkskin blazer he would look amazing in. It was much easier for her to just get it and guilt him into wearing it after the fact. Even Jonathan didn't bat an eye at the sight of them together, even when they were wrestling in their own imagined version of an epic super powered fight. He relegated Simon into the same sphere as Izzy, just one of his little sister's friends, clearly a boy, but a goofy one.

Jace was not so open minded about her friendship with Simon. Even before an unlucky incident, Jace watched Simon suspiciously despite Simon's obvious devotion to Izzy. The unfortunate incident occurred shortly after the group date and Simon had just started his workouts with her. They had finished a vigorous cardio strength training class and sat on a bench in front of the gym, having decided to take the bus home. Simon was new to the class and loudly complained he couldn't move another muscle. It was then that he admitted to Clary that he had not kissed Izzy yet and was worried he would disappoint her.

"You're kidding," Clary said disbelievingly. "What's there to worry about? Izzy has loads of experience." She had meant to say it so that Simon would know Izzy would expertly guide him but Simon did not appear at all comforted.

"Why would you say that?" he stared daggers at her. "Now, I'll never be able to kiss her. I'll be thinking of all the guys that have kissed her before me and how I'll never measure up."

"Don't be ridiculous, Simon," Clary assured him. "Izzy really likes you and you really like her. That will make it special. Trust me."

"How do you know that?" he grimaced.

"Because I never kissed anyone before Jace but it was … wonderful," she told him, her voice taking on a low and dreamy inflection. She moaned a little just thinking about it.

"I don't know. I don't think it's the same for guys and girls," Simon worried, chewing his lower lip.

"Simon, seriously, just go with the flow. It will be perfect." Clary patted his hand.

"Clary, I think I need some practice," Simon said resolutely.

"What?" she was sure she hadn't heard him right.

"I'm rusty. It's been a while … like over three months and even then I didn't have anyone swooning," Simone lamented.

"Simon, it's a bad idea. Whatever you're thinking about, don't do it," Clary warned him.

"It will ruin everything," Simon continued. "A bad kiss is like a death knell in a new relationship. I've got to start this thing off right."

Clary punched him in the arm. "Simon, don't be stupid. If you go around 'practicing' with other girls, Izzy will find out and you're right there will be a death knell. She will kill you."

Simon rubbed his arm grudgingly then looked at Clary with his eyebrows raised high. "I've got an idea."

"Oh no," she could just tell the idea would be rotten to the core.

"What? You haven't heard me out," Simon scowled at her.

"I can just tell," Clary smirked at him, then felt bad when his face fell. "Okay, out with it. What is this brilliant idea?"

"We should kiss. I can practice on you," Simon said excitedly.

It was actually not a horrible idea. She certainly would not get the wrong idea about it and she could give Simon and honest assessment of his kissing skills. Plus, she doubted Izzy would even mind. She knew how crazy Clary was about Jace and … Clary realized then that in itself might pose a problem. She had a pretty strong feeling Jace would not like this idea.

"I'm not sure, Simon," Clary answered. "You know I don't mind kissing you. You're my best friend … besides Izzy, but you know, Jace and I are kind of together now and isn't there a rule about not kissing anyone else when you're going with someone?"

She honestly wasn't entirely sure. Jace had said he would beat down anyone who touched her … did that include kissing Simon? Her best friend? Couldn't he understand it was just an experiment, an innocent experiment, nothing like their own heated, heart pounding kisses? Plus, she couldn't help feeling a bit curious. She had never kissed anyone other than Jace. She wondered what it would feel like even though she was certain nothing could compare to his kisses.

"He won't mind," Simon answered cavalierly. "Besides, how would he ever know? No one will know. It's just between us. You have to help me, Clary!" he begged.

The desperation on Simon's face convinced her. "Alright, Simon, you ready?" she asked and moved her face toward his.

"Okay, give me a sec. I have to visualize Izzy, here." Simon frowned from the effort.

They moved toward each other and Simon lowered his lips onto hers. It was a gentle kiss, very tender and very nice. Not at all like kissing Jace but it was good. Clary smiled with Simon's lips still on hers. She was glad she could tell him he would be fine with Izzy.

They broke apart then and Simon looked a bit dazed.

"Wow," he said. "You're good."

"I could have told you that," said a voice from behind. A low and dangerous voice. Probably the worst possible voice that Clary could imagine in that moment.

"Oh hi, Jace, we were just … practicing," Simon looked wide eyed behind Clary.

Clary slowly turned her own head to face the inevitable and even with the extreme displeasure plain on his face, she sighed at the sight of him.

"Jace! You're here!" she jumped up and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around him.

He was a bit stiff but placed his own arms around her in return.

When she looked up at him, his expression stayed severe but she could see the steady fire behind his eyes that always told her he wanted her.

"Let me be absolutely clear here, you don't need any practice," he stared down at her. "And you," he faced Simon with a cold and deadly look, "if you ever put your lips on hers again, I will rip them off. That might be a good look for you." Jace seemed to relax a little with his last statement to Simon and held Clary close to him.

"Jace, it was nothing. Seriously. Simon just wants to be ready for his first kiss with Izzy," Clary tried to explain.

Jace looked down at her. "Clary, if you value your friend's life at all, you will let him find another solution to his problem. Your lips are taken. Do you understand me?"

Clary nodded and laid her head against him.

After this incident, Jace was far less supportive about Clary's continued friendship with Simon but he accepted it. He would randomly appear after Clary and Simon's workouts but Clary knew this had to be incredibly hard for him to manage. He probably had to race right out of practice without a chance to cool down or shower to show up before five so she did her best to behave the way he would want and reassure him he had nothing to worry about.

They didn't see each other as much as she wanted, as much alone that is. But it was likely a good thing. The only time they had away from any intrusive attention was the few frenzied minutes before school, in his car. Jace had lunch during fifth period while she had it at fourth so they could not spend that time with one another either. But it gave them both a chance to catch up with friends. Sometimes it felt as if they were turning into one person the way their bodies, thoughts and emotions were consumed by each other and both Izzy and Simon had informed her it was nauseating to watch them together. Aunt Hodge and her brother, for that matter, would not allow her out with him unescorted. On school nights, Jace was allowed to come over to their home and sit with the family in the living room under watchful eyes. Jace still dutifully came over after football and spent the permitted two hours with her doing homework. They managed a lot of hand holding and numerous, albeit very quick, pecks during these sessions. Even that was met with disapproving grunts but it was never enough. Still, he was a brilliant student and their homework sessions improved her grades significantly. Aunt Hodge or Jonathan certainly could not say her schoolwork was suffering from the relationship. On weekends when she was supposedly allowed out on dates, Jonathan unfailingly trailed them. On rare occasions, he had one of his friends on patrol. Apparently Seelie expected some of Jonathan's undistracted time and did not find monitoring Clary and Jace a worthy or agreeable date.

They tended to do very physical activities during their dates. It was a good way of releasing the highly pent up sexual energy that had her incredibly charged up and ready to pounce. Their ten minute morning escapades in Jace's car were not helping. They had not crossed the boundary below their waists but they knew every line of each other's chests, the feel and taste of them and he tasted so good. Sometimes she wondered if everyone could see how damp she was after Jace had covered every inch of her torso with torrid kisses and sucking that left little red marks all over her breasts and down the path to her navel. And he certainly did not leave his car unscathed. She guessed he did an excellent job covering up around Jonathan, otherwise, she knew her brother would have her locked in her room permanently.

They always talked. About whatever came across their minds. About what happened when they weren't together, about how good it felt to be with one another again. Anything Jace had to say was madly absorbing to her. And he seemed to feel the same way. He never took his eyes off her. She always felt like she was all he could see just like he was all she could see. But they had not talked seriously about their relationship, what they were to each other, the fact that she was completely head over heels for him, since that first night when she declared he was her boyfriend. It almost seemed too obvious to have to say out loud but at the same time she couldn't help wondering why they didn't talk about it. It had gotten to the point where it felt almost taboo to mention it.

Although they spent almost all of their time outside of school at Clary's home or being followed on their physically exhaustive dates by Jonathan and friends, she had finally met Jace's grandmother and Alex at his home. Jace warned her that it would not be much fun but Clary was always eager to know more about Jace and his home life and friendship with Alex was a big unknown. She had been formally invited to a sit down dinner at his home. Jonathan brought her to Jace's home and insisted on picking her up again after their meal. As it turned out, he did not have to make another trip back and forth since he exercised his full charms on Jace's grandmother and easily managed his own invitation to stay for dinner. Jonathan's smug smile at Clary was met with a disgruntled frown.

But, it was entertaining to watch Jonathan squirm uncomfortably when Jace introduced them to Alex, his best friend. Alex was very tall, almost reaching Jace's height and had striking purple blue eyes, thick black hair cropped just above her neckline and long classical features. She also had the impressive physique of a dedicated, premier basketball player, bound for a scholarship funded Notre Dame University stint in the following year. She was not very talkative at first, but seemed to warm up once Jace's grandmother started lecturing Jace about the duties of the head of the household male. Alex alternately guffawed silently, poked Jace in the rib with her elbow and cast deadpan sober expressions at him that were almost an exact replica of the cast on his grandmother's face.

Grandmother to Jace and even Alex, or Madame Herondale to Clary and Jonathan, was an impressive woman. She was a few inches taller than Clary, but then who wasn't, and her sharp features, steel gray hair shaped into a stiff but full bob around her angular face, bright blue eyes and immaculately applied makeup, even the lines on her forehead and below her eyes seemed important and necessary aspects that formed her domineering character. She had a trim figure and looked entirely capable of taking on the whole lot of them, with energy to spare.

Clary wasn't certain what brought on this carping diatribe at Jace. She had not noticed that Jace was anything but completely respectful and unfailingly polite with his grandmother's cold aquamarine eyes trained on him but Jace did not seem to let it disturb him. He calmly nodded at his grandmother and continued to eat his dinner, roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, with admirable table manners. It was a relief to finish dinner, thank his grandmother for the wonderful meal which she clearly did not prepare, what with a chef, maids and a butler a part of her household, and be able to walk out into the gardens away from her scrutiny. Clary couldn't tell what Madame Herondale thought of her. She eyed her speculatively, as if she was shrewdly measuring her worth, and then treated her with the utmost courtesy. She called Clary exceptionally pretty and remarked that she was the first girlfriend Jace had ever deigned to bring home. Clary could not believe that to be true but wouldn't dare contradict her.

Jonathan got along swimmingly with Madame Herondale. He could ooze gallantry when he needed to and he was all attention and solicitude toward her. Clary could swear the old lady was flirting with him the way she took his arm for coffee and dessert in the parlor and it actually sounded like she giggled at some nonsense Jonathan was spouting at her. Madame Herondale instructed Jace to attend to some matter with the servants in the kitchen while she walked into the parlor with Jonathan and suggested Clary could take in the garden views if she liked.

Clary could not get away from the old woman fast enough and thanked her with obvious gratitude for the suggestion. She was a little surprised when she realized Alex was following her out. The sky was a dusky orange and pink and the soft light made all the colors deeper and richer. The shadows seemed to whisper at a depth of secrets that both scared and fascinated her.

"There's a garden maze in the path up that trail. Probably shouldn't go too far. You don't want to go in there without the full light of day," Alex remarked.

Clary turned up to Alex. Izzy was tall but Alex probably had another four inches on her.

"You know, you're not what I expected," Alex told her and turned her own extraordinary eyes at her. It made Clary feel a bit exposed and unsettled. "I've seen Jace with a lot of girls and he definitely has a thing for red heads but … you're different."

"How is that?" Clary asked involuntarily. It all felt surreal and strangely intimate. It was like seeing another side of Jace without him even being there.

"Well, for one thing you don't spend every second fluttering your lashes at him and primping yourself," Alex stated candidly, "and it seems like you have your own interests and ambitions. You're not another Barbie robot. Jace told me about your art and … your friends."

"Hmm," Clary wondered. "You know, you could be describing yourself."

Alex smiled at her then. It was an easy smile that immediately made Clary like her.

"Yeah, but I'm not a redhead and as pretty as he is, he's still a guy," Alex smirked.

"So, was it ever a possibility? You know, between you and Jace?" Somehow Clary knew Alex would approve total open honesty.

"No," Alex said decisively. "I mean, at one time, we kind of tried. Just because, you know, that's what my parents want, a 'normal' girl with a 'normal' life and his grandmother was into it too and we were always together anyway, but no, it was incredibly awkward and … moronic."

"We got as far as a kiss, once, when we were fifteen and didn't speak for a month," Alex laughed good naturedly.

"Jace really cares for you," Clary told her. "He doesn't say much about … feelings, but I can tell. You mean a lot to him."

Alex looked at Clary thoughtfully. "Yeah, I know. He means a lot to me too. I was always sort of an outcast but he never treated me that way. He's my friend. A true friend."

"A best friend," Clary agreed.

"So, I guess you've noticed he's sort of … closed off," Alex stated.

Clary only nodded.

"It's not easy for him. His grandmother doesn't encourage any outpouring of emotions. She has 'big plans' for him. She expects him to carry on the family's legacy and she has very particular notions of what is acceptable for Jace," Alex's eyes seemed to bore into Clary.

"And what is that legacy?" Clary had never known these details about Jace's life before. He never elaborated on any of it. She was struck with the pressure he must face at home, at school, all the expectations that everyone had of him.

"Well, the Herondales are pretty big philanthropists. They support the arts, culture, medical innovations. But they make their money from real estate and development," Alex explained.

"Oh," Clary was at a loss. She wasn't sure what to say or what to think.

"He had to fight her to come to your school. She had him all set up for a private boarding school in New York City," Alex continued. "I don't really know why. He just really wanted to play football for the team there. Met your brother over the summer. They were both really psyched about playing together. They don't seem that keen about each other anymore."

"Hmm," was all Clary could come up with.

"I think he figured it was his last hurrah, his last chance to just do something he wanted to do, before college, adulthood, all of his grandmother's plans for him," Alex watched Clary intently.

"So," Clary finally found her voice. "That's what this year is … a last hurrah?"

"What's a last hurrah?" Jace asked, emerging from the darkness.

Clary turned to face him. He was like a golden ray of light. He would always be the light for her, something so very beautiful but impossible to hold. No matter what happens, no matter where they ended up, she would cherish this time they had together. She would not spoil it with questions about where they were heading, how long they had, whether he loved her.

And once she made the decision, it was that easy. She opened her arms to greet him and there he was. They held each other and she was able to look up at him with clear eyes, without any expectations or demands. He had enough of them. She didn't need to add to the burdens on his life. I love you, she thought. If you're ever ready to share that with me, I'm here, and if not, I'll still love you.


	10. Chapter 10 Off Duty

It was on a date night with Jonathan off duty that things came to a turning point between them.

They went to a trampoline park and were bounding up and down, taking full advantage of their airborne state to grab at one another and make increasingly impressive and reckless flips and jumps.

"I think the monitor over there is about to come over and tell us to cool it," Clary laughed out at him when she seized him around his shoulders and swung herself around his back, her legs crossed around his waist. Jace reached around and held her legs so that they appeared to be jumping piggy back style but really gave Clary an ideal opportunity to rub her body against the hard lines of his back.

"You are a very naughty girl," Jace told her and turned his head back so that she could crane over and give him a wet and sloppy kiss. They could hardly manage the usual flawless alignment of their mouths as the rest of their bodies sailed up and down in the air but it was still magical and perfect to Clary, just like all their kisses. Jace pulled her around into his arms so they were now facing each other.

"Where's the Detective?" Jace asked referring to her brother. "Is he trying to entrap us by hiding in disguises?"

"That's not his style," Clary answered, boldly pressing her lips to Jace's neck. "You know he likes to be front and center, burning holes into us with his laser eye beams."

Jace was right, though. She hadn't seen Jonathan. She suspected he was on a Seelie call and had sent one of his minions in his place. She looked around the park to get a full view of the crowd around them. It was then that she felt an uncomfortable, almost burning gaze at her back and swiveled her head to lock eyes with an intense black stare. Sebastian Verlac. He was loosely draped over another small, very cute brunette who spoke very animatedly up at him but he seemed entirely occupied with watching her. A tingling sensation travelled down her spine. What a creep. No doubt about it. Look at him, his too long wavy black hair slicked back but a chunky strand fell daringly over his left eye. He wore a tight black shirt and black jeans. Clary thought he looked like a sleek black panther, a consummate predator and the way he eyed her made her feel like she was his intended prey.

"You're kidding me," Jace had his arms around her waist, his chest behind her back and they both faced Sebastian now. "I know they're friends but I never thought Jonathan would send Verlac to babysit."

"First of all, I'm not a baby," Clary sulked. Jonathan's constant surveillance tactics was getting aggravating. "But, yeah, it seems odd," Clary agreed and struggled a little to look away from Sebastian. "Jonathan always tells me to stay away from Sebastian. Says he can't be trusted around any woman … but he's never had the slightest interest in me."

Jace spun her around to face him and the sheer force of his beauty and his arresting golden eyes had her lost in mid thought.

"Trust me," Jace's arms formed an iron vise around her, "he's interested," and then bent over and kissed her in a heated and blatantly possessive hold.

Not that she minded at all. She had the vaguest notion that they really should not be doing this here but she could not say why and had no desire to pull away and figure it out. And then, even with her mouth firmly planted over his, her body wrapped around him, she could tell they were moving, or rather he was moving them in a way that was not consistent with their soaring trampoline jumps.

"Ahem!" a loud voice managed to pierce through the haze created by their embrace and they both turned their heads toward the interruption. After hearing so many similarly disapproving grunts directed at them, they had both grown conditioned to break any amorous activity and quickly respond to the interference. But instead of meeting the piercing narrowed green scrutiny of her brother's eyes or her aunt's frowning visage, they faced Izzy's amused but rather exasperated smirk.

"You know there are little kids around here, right?" she questioned them. "You two really need to learn about what's appropriate in public and in private. In other words, get a room."

Clary would have laughed if she didn't hear and feel the low groan that rumbled from Jace's chest. She gave him a curious look.

"I was just imagining this foreign concept. You and me. Alone. In a room," he explained.

Her own eyes widened at the thought and a rising heat went through her body.

"So … Jace, it kinda looks like you were about to get out of there," Izzy pointed out.

Clary then noticed that Jace had in fact walked them over to the side of the trampoline pit and had one hand on the ladder out while the other held her securely pressed against him, her legs in their usual position, tightly gripping his waist.

"Maybe it will help if you, like, get off him, Clary," Izzy suggested with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh … yeah," Clary mumbled. She probably should have been embarrassed but honestly at this point she considered it an accomplishment to manage only one public spectacle when they went out on their dates.

Clary eased off Jace's body. It didn't matter how many times they touched, she could never get enough of how he felt next to her, beneath her, above her. Jace held onto her waist and hoisted her up the padded ladder, fondling the curve of her legs as she shakily climbed out. Clary gave Izzy a hug while Jace climbed out himself.

"So, what are you doing here?" she asked Izzy cheerfully. "Here with Simon?" She looked around for him. A trampoline park wasn't really their style, but maybe they decided to switch things up.

Izzy grimaced distastefully. "Really, Clary? Do I look like the type to be jumping up and down like a clown? No offense. Simon's out with his mom and sister. You know, she came back to visit this weekend."

"Oh," Clary smiled when she felt Jace's arm slide around her waist. "But then why are you here?"

Izzy's eyes darted around somewhat guiltily. "Okay, Clary. Don't be mad, but I'm doing a favor … for Jonathan."

"What? You're kidding me! He sent you to watch me! Izzy, you're my friend. How could you join the dark side?" Clary's mouth fell open in surprise.

"Honestly, Clary. What's the big deal? He was desperate. All his usual 'go-to' guys were busy and he said something about Seelie, an emergency, couldn't wait … And he promised if I did this for him, well, he would owe me." The grin on Izzy's face looked highly suspect to Clary.

"Don't tell me you still have the hots for him? I thought you were with Simon now?" Clary felt her hackles raising. She couldn't believe Izzy would drop Simon like that.

Now, Izzy looked insulted. "Really, Clary? You're going there? No, I don't play like that. And yes, I like Simon very much and I don't think I need to call in favors from your brother for a date." Izzy huffed a bit then continued, "Quite honestly, we was begging pitifully and I'm a compassionate girl."

Clary snickered a little, "Uh huh." Then she turned around to see if Sebastian was still skulking around. "Then, what about Sebastian? Jonathan didn't send him?"

Izzy scrunched up her nose as if she smelled something bad. "Are you kidding me? Your brother isn't stupid. Why would he ever send Sebastian to make sure you stay good and innocent? That's like sending a wolf to make sure the lamb is safe."

Clary relaxed a little then. It was a relief to know Sebastian would not be following her around all evening. Jace tended to be over cautious about Clary with other guys. It was actually sort of funny that he shared this trait with Jonathan. She did not believe Sebastian was really attracted to her but she could believe he enjoyed freaking her out simply because he was a nasty piece of work. Clary had only ever known Sebastian for the derisive sneer he directed at her, the snorting way he asked if she was a girl or boy underneath the formless slouch of clothes she always wore before Jace turned up or why she was so slow to bring the guys their drinks and snacks when they occasionally came over to the house to hang with Jonathan. And she had not even minded it. Not really. She didn't like him but she preferred that treatment to this new Sebastian who seemed to preen at her and appeared to want her attention. He could never affect her the way Jace did but he was undeniably good looking and … sexy … but not in a good way. No, he looked like the type of boy that would take you, wring you out and leave you like a discarded rag on the floor.

"Clary," Jace whispered into her ear. "Does this mean what I think it means?" There was a tremor in his voice and she was surprised to feel him shaking a little.

Izzy had walked away to take a call and Clary and Jace stood on a line to buy a pizza and sodas.

"I don't know. What does what mean?" she asked confused.

"We're free? No guards on duty tonight?" There was a jubilant excitement in his voice that she hated to dampen but she slowly shook her head no.

"You heard Izzy. She's watching us tonight," Clary answered him.

"We could so easily ditch her," Jace responded. "Look at her. She's doing a very half assed job. We could turn around and leave right now. She wouldn't even notice for another ten minutes."

Clary actually considered it but then, "No, I can't do that to Izzy. She'll never let me hear the end of it and believe me, if she feels wronged she will absolutely call the Detective in."

Clary watched an adorable pout form on Jace's lips and glided a finger over its smooth pinkness.

"I have an idea," Jace's alluring mouth turned up in an excited grin. His golden eyes were so luminous he took her breath away. "A dream come true type of idea," he rushed out.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly. Whatever it was, it had him brimming with an exhilarating hope and she would give anything to fulfill it for him.

"Stay over at Izzy's tonight," Jace whispered in her ear. "Then sneak out and spend the night with me."

The idea of it thrilled her and filled her with excitement but … she wasn't sure. Would Izzy agree? Would her aunt and Jonathan believe her and not come banging on Izzy's door to check on her? Was she ready for this?

She didn't know what he saw on her face but he drew it up gently with both hands. "We don't have to do anything. I promise. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms and then wake up with you still in them."

Her heart soared at his words and she nodded, then puckered her lips for the sweetest, gentlest kiss. It felt like the barest wisp of a cloud that swayed back and forth across her open and willing mouth.

"You guys gonna get something or what?" a tired middle aged man behind them nudged then forward on the line.

They clasped hands and moved up.

* * *

"So, what do you think, Iz?" Clary watched Izzy carefully.

It was hard to say how Izzy would respond. She had a pensive look on her face that Clary did not know how to read.

"Are you crazy?" Izzy finally expelled. "I told your brother I'd watch you and now I'm supposed to help you run off with sex on a stick?"

"Iz, it's not like that!" Clary struggled to keep her voice down.

She had persuaded Jace to let her speak with Izzy alone and they had found a bench away from the crowds by an unused trampoline cage, shuttered for repairs.

"Then tell me, what is it?" Izzy demanded. "From where I stand and for that matter, from where everyone stands, anyone who's had their vision burned by the sight of the two you going at it, it sure looks like two insanely sexed up teenagers."

Clary exhaled loudly, "I love him, Izzy. You know that. I want this. I want to spend more than ten minutes alone with him. We've been dating for months and my neurotic aunt and insanely overbearing brother are constantly over our shoulders. Can't you understand?"

Izzy was about to say something but stopped short with a dawning thought overcoming her face. "Are you sure about this? About him?"

"I'm sure how I feel about him. I'm sure I want him. I'm sure I want him to be my first," she answered with more decisiveness than she felt.

Of course there was no question that she loved him, wanted him, but at the same time she knew it would change things. And she didn't know what that would mean. They were happy the way they were, weren't they? Terribly frustrated, almost frantic to prolong their brief morning minutes together, it always left her wanting more … but if they both finally had more, had all of each other, what then? Clary took in a big breath then exhaled. It didn't matter. She supposed she could drive herself crazy with all the questions but in the end, it didn't matter. What mattered was this moment, this chance to be with Jace. It was worth the risk. It was worth the heartbreak that may be coming, that she had once been so sure she was destined to face if she opened herself up to him. She knew unequivocally he cared for her, he wanted her. Did he love her? She couldn't say with certainty but it didn't matter. She loved him. It was enough.

"Alright, Clary," Isabelle sighed. "It's your decision. It should be your decision. But I'm going to hate myself if you get hurt."

Clary met Izzy's dark eyes and could not mistake the love she saw in them. She reached up and pulled Izzy into a tight hold.

"Everyone gets hurt, Iz," Clary dropped her head onto Izzy's shoulder. "It's how we grow but I'm so very grateful for you. I know I can face anything with you behind me. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," Izzy sniffed. "I love you, too."

Izzy pulled away from Clary but still held onto her shoulders. "So what's the plan?"

* * *

Clary could not help wondering if this was real or if she was dreaming. It had been strangely easy, too easy, to explain to Aunt Hodge and then Jonathan that she was sleeping over at Izzy's. Aunt Hodge nodded blankly. Staying over at Izzy's was a fairly commonplace occurrence. They did live right across from the street from each other. It had admittedly been a while. The fun of staying up all night, watching scary movies and playing dress up games was not as appealing as it was when they were ten and they both preferred to go back to their own beds for a comfortable night's sleep. As for Jonathan, he wasn't even home when she got back so she did not have to worry about whether he could see the lie on her face. She called his phone and he sounded … distracted. She hoped it was nothing to worry about. She didn't like Seelie but she knew her brother did and swear to God, if that high-falutin, hoity-toity, redheaded queen hurt him she was not above exacting some low down vengeance on the witch.

But, he didn't sound upset, just … odd, different. In any case, he certainly seemed to be less inquisitive about her plans than she would have expected. He asked her to repeat herself two or three times and then simply hoped she'd have a good time, would see her tomorrow.

Maybe this was just meant to be and all the stars were aligning to plan. She didn't really believe in that fate mumbo jumbo crap but well, she was the first to admit she didn't really know a damn thing. She stuffed a change of clothes, her toothbrush, a hairbrush, a tank and shorts sleeping set into a duffel bag and looked around her room. Her mind was a muddled haze. She could barely think straight. The adrenaline rushed through her blood, a confounding excitement had her body thrumming with excess energy and she found it inordinately difficult to concentrate, remember what she might need for a sleep over.

What time was it? Jace was supposed to wait for her behind Izzy's house at eleven. It was ten forty five. OK, a little bit of time. Maybe, she could sit down and try to breathe normally again.

"Miss Clary, what are you doing?" Aunt Hodge pushed her door open and looked down at Clary, lying prostrate on her bed, a somewhat disinterested but quizzical look on her face. "I thought you were staying with your friend. Why are you still lying around in here?"

"Yeah, I'm just … I was trying … to remember something," Clary finished lamely.

"Hmmm," said Aunt Hodge. "Was it important?" she asked.

Clary looked up at her aunt and wondered why she seemed to care. Aunt Hodge had never bothered much with the details of Clary's life. She made sure there was food for her, gave her a weekly allowance, looked over her report card and signed the necessary school related forms but Clary realized her aunt had probably spoken more to her over the past few months, since dating Jace, than she had over the last ten years.

Aunt Hodge did not work but it seemed she had inherited a decent sum of money from her brother, Jack Fairchild, Clary and Jonathan's father, and had lived off this nest egg since her nephew and niece came to live with her. Apparently there were also trust funds set up for the children but they would not be able to access it until they reached their twenty fifth year. They did not know much about it, how much was in the trust, why or how they were set up. Clary sometimes wondered how her father had planned so well ahead. She couldn't imagine it was much money. They had never lived lavishly as far as she could recall. Her father had been a gifted painter. Everyone always told her she had inherited his looks and his talent. She sometimes spent hours examining his paintings that were hung around her aunt's home; the precise brush strokes, the explosion of colors. She considered it the highest compliment when her artwork was compared to his but she couldn't help but wish she looked more like her mother, like Jonathan. Valentina Fairchild had a striking ice cool beauty, long white blond hair and elegant Nordic features. Nothing like the elfish attributes that seemed to dominate Clary's appearance. Although, of course, Jonathan and Clary shared their father's emerald green eyes.

"Is everything alright, Aunt Hodge?" Clary asked her.

"Sure, sure, nothing to worry about," Aunt Hodge answered quickly. "What about you, Clary? Are you alright? Have you thought about which colleges you'll apply to? What you're going to do with your life?"

"Well, I still have some time for that. I'm more concerned about where Jonathan is headed. Aren't you?" Clary asked her but felt profoundly touched that her aunt cared enough to ask about her.

"Jonathan," Aunt Hodge grimaced. "I'm sure that boy can take care of himself. He doesn't need me. Not like you."

And then miracle of miracles, Aunt Hodge actually patted Clary's hair affectionately.

"Sometimes, I look at you ... and I miss my brother … so much," she said quietly.

Clary was utterly mystified. Aunt Hodge had never mentioned her father much before.

"So … you liked him? He wasn't too … handsome?" Clary asked bewildered.

Aunt Hodge looked befuddled and then outraged. "Now, what is that supposed to mean, Miss Clary?" she spit out. "My brother was a very handsome man and I loved him, I'll have you know. Now get on out of here or unpack your things and go to sleep."

She threw one last harassed look at Clary then shuffled out muttering about ungrateful whippersnappers.

Clary shook her head. What the hell was that about? Then turned her head to check the time on the clock and ran out the door.

* * *

"Jace!" she whispered loudly.

It figured someone in her family would throw a wrench in her alone time plans with Jace. She hoped he wasn't irritated. Why her aunt would choose this moment to get all touchy feely was a mystery but she knew some part of her had not minded the delay. She was a little scared.

Did he actually leave? Fine, she was late. Fifteen minutes late but really, he couldn't wait fifteen minutes after months of groping each other like lunatics, he couldn't wait fifteen …. GAHH!

He held her tightly, his mouth mashed over hers. He was literally trembling. He was like a live wire, a shocking course of electricity transmitting from his touch into her body and then suddenly he pulled away, panting loudly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I swore I wouldn't do that. I swear I can control myself," he said roughly. "I'm just … I'm happy … to see you."

He chuckled then, his lazy laugh. The one that told her they were good, better than good. The one that made her want to jump on top of him and jolt him with her own electrifying energy.

"You never have to apologize for kissing me," she said in a low voice. She could hear the absolute hunger in it. She was pretty sure he'd have to be deaf not to recognize it too. "So, where are we going?" She stupidly realized they had never discussed their plans that far. She had no idea where he would take her.

"Home, of course," he said and took her hand.

"Your grandmother won't mind … you have a guest?" she asked unevenly.

"She's not there," Jace answered. "She went to some charity ball. Staying at the hotel afterwards."

"Okay," she said. She had never heard anyone sound so mesmerizingly seductive. "Then, take me home."

She tapped once on Izzy's window to let her know she was leaving with Jace. Izzy's face popped out from the curtains, a small worried smile on her face.

"I love you," she mouthed at Izzy and Izzy nodded back at her, motioned with her hands to call her later.

When she turned back to Jace, she noticed he looked at her strangely.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said and they left then.

She had never seen Jace move without a sleek catlike grace before but she thought he actually stumbled twice as they made their way to his car. She had no idea how she got there herself. She didn't think she could feel her legs but she knew she walked there. They avoided looking into each other's eyes. She didn't know what Jace was thinking but she knew she could easily lose herself in his gaze and they would end up rolling around in Izzy's backyard if they started their staring contest. Probably not a good idea.

Jace did not turn on the lights when they got to his home. Clary figured he didn't want to wake ther servants but he didn't move with any trepidation. He was back to his normal self and glided smoothly across the surfaces. She supposed it was just the unfamiliar grounds that tripped him up previously.

He brought her to his room. It was a large room. It was also very bare and very white. White bed, white curtains, white walls. He didn't turn the lights on in there either but the moonlight streamed in from the large picture windows facing the garden and she could easily move around. She walked about, trying to find some part of Jace in the room. The last time she was at his home, they did not enter his room what with his grandmother and more impedingly, her brother, in attendance. There was a small photo in a plain silver picture frame on a large white dresser. That halted her inspection. A couple, a beautiful couple, stood holding each other, clearly very much in love. They did not even bother to look at the camera, they were so wrapped up in each other. Clary knew these were Jace's parents without asking. He had his father's golden coloring and strong, tall frame. He had his mother's peerless features, the lines of her face, so smooth and clean she could have been a sculpted masterpiece. There were no pictures of Jace, his grandmother or his grandfather. There were no awards or trophies although Clary knew that Jace had received countless academic and sports related accolades. She wondered what he did with them but didn't ask.

And then she found another picture. On the night table, next to his bed, was a well-worn photo of … herself. She was so surprised by this she unconsciously sat down and picked it up. When had he taken it? She had never seen her eyes so wide and so green before. Her hair was a mess, untamed by any clip or hair tie but she could almost see why Izzy encouraged her to wear it down naturally. There was a wild beauty to it that she had never noticed before. It looked like he had taken the shot after one of their crazed make out sessions in his car, seeing as how she was seated against the very familiar leather interior and her clothes were askew, her blouse hanging widely off a shoulder but apparently she had turned to him with a dazed expression that screamed, 'I love you.'

Jace crouched down in front of her and took the picture from her hands.

"That's mine," he said quietly. "Do you want to get ready for bed?"

"To sleep," he added hurriedly and looked down.

"Jace," she said softly. "I want you."

He seemed to shake a little, then put the picture into the top drawer of the night table. He turned back to her and slowly faced her. There was a beautiful glow in his eyes and a raging fire behind them.

"Clary, I told you I only want to hold you while you sleep. I'm not asking for anything else," he said calmly but she could hear the tremble in his voice.

"I know. I'm asking." She wondered how the words just spilled out of her mouth and then she placed her own hands on his face and pulled his mouth onto hers.

She had never thought their kisses, especially the ones they shared in his car, were inhibited but now she knew they had both been holding back. There was so much feverish passion in the way their mouths molded together, the way their hands gripped the other's face and tugged through their hair, the way their tongues embraced and they moaned into each other's mouths. She felt as if she might just spontaneously combust and in that moment she would die perfectly happy. And then she realized she was falling into her lust induced blackout mode when she noticed her fingers had unknowingly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. She pulled back then. Jace still had her shoulders in his strong warm hands but did not try to force her back into his arms.

"What is it?" he said unsteadily. "Do you want to stop?" He slowly unhinged his fingers and moved his hands off her.

"No," she spoke clearly. "I want to remember everything. I want to see everything. Undress for me."

Who am I? Who's saying these things? She felt as if she should be terrified but she wasn't. She felt incredibly empowered, finally ready to take what she wanted, fully conscious and aware of it.

She got up and stood a few feet away from him. "I'll go first, if you want."

He stared up at her. He was still kneeling by the bed where they had been sharing their unbridled kisses only seconds ago. He nodded slowly.

She moved deliberately, easing out of each piece of clothing. First the top, then the bra. He had seen this all before but he looked at her as if it were all new to his eyes. And then she undid her jeans and tugged them off. She was not even embarrassed when she had to hop out of them. Izzy had insisted on skin tight jeans and she had to admit they looked pretty good on her but they weren't exactly made to slip out of neatly. She stood in front of him almost completely exposed and the hitch in his breathing made her blood boil with desire. She slung her thumbs into the sides of her panties and smiled at him.

"This will officially make you my panty dropper," she told him as she pushed them down and stepped out of them.

It was a little cool, standing in his room, competely naked but she felt amazingly hot, especially with the way he looked at her. She could feel his eyes grazing her bare body, igniting a burning heat inside her.

He stood up then. "If I live to be a hundred years old, I will never see anything more beautiful than you," he told her and she flushed with pleasure.

He moved towards her and she stepped back.

"Your turn, Jace," she said, then smiled with anticipation.

He kept his eyes locked on hers and she sensed the wordless communication between them. She had no idea what was being said but she knew it felt … amazing, as if everything she ever wanted or needed flowered around her. She had never felt so complete or whole. She was only able to half watch Jace undress. She was so absorbed by his stunning golden eyes and everything they told her. He was naked in front of her and absolutely glorious. She didn't even need to move to touch him. She could stand here and just look at him, every bare exquisite inch of him and never want for anything for the rest of her life. But then he moved toward her and took her in his arms. It felt wonderful having his bare body pressed against hers. She thought she might pass out from the ecstasy. He lifted her and brought her to his bed.

"You're perfect. You're beautiful," he told her and covered her body with the sweetest, most tender kisses she could ever imagine.

She was afraid she was losing her hold on the moment as the pleasure and the heat that thrummed through her body threatened to wipe out all her abilities for cogent thought. When he moved his body over hers and aligned their hips the anticipation had grown almost painful. This was happening. Or was it? She might be dreaming all of this. She had had similarly heated dreams but … never as detailed or with such a flood of sensations that rocked her body to its core. Her legs opened and wrapped themselves around his waist with a will of their own. She hoped she was not disappointing him. She had not done much that she could remember other than lie on her back and let the sensations overwhelm her but she did not believe she was capable of much more than that. But, he didn't seem disappointed. He was very much absorbed in his own activities. Her hips met his when he plunged into her and she gasped at the pain, a fullness inside her that seemed to stretch her almost to tearing.

"Oh God, that hurts," she could not contain the words.

"Just stay still, sweetheart," he whispered back at her. "Don't move, you'll get used to it. You'll see," he groaned out and the gritty sound did something to her. It made her want to open up wider to him and she gripped his back and forced him in deeper.

"Baby, what are you doing?" he moaned into her neck.

She could feel him growing inside her. It was hard to believe he could get bigger but there it was and … the pain … it was … subsiding. She started moving her hips. It was not a conscious action but one she felt compelled to do and then he was moving with her. Slowly, gliding in and out, and like everything else between their bodies, they moved as one and fit so perfectly together she couldn't even remember the initial pain. It was still astonishingly tight but an oily wetness surrounded their moving parts and the rubbing friction began to feel good … really, really good, that kept rising like a surging tide.

"Oh, God, Clary," he moaned, "You're … you … were made for me. You feel so good. You … belong to me. Say it."

"Yes, Jace," she cried out. "I'm yours. I'll always be yours."

She felt his hands reach under her and tilt her hips up, opening her up even more than she thought possible while he grinded into her. She felt a building pressure where they slammed into each other. Each dive he took inside her had her bucking up for more.

He bit into her neck and started sucking lustily pleading with her, "Please come, baby."

She could barely understand what he was saying. Did he want her to leave? And then the building pressure had reached its climax. The walls inside her, pressed tight against him, started clenching and unclenching, an explosive shudder that had her holding onto him, her nails digging into his flesh and a drenching release of hot liquid spurted inside her. She had never felt anything so staggeringly good. Her last conscious thoughts, if this is what sex is like for everyone, I completely understand why boys are so sex crazed. But somehow she knew this was better than that. That what they had was something mind-blowingly special.


	11. Chapter 11 Can We Be Friends

She wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up but it was still dark outside and the moon was still the only source of light in the room. She was tucked into Jace's firm body, her head nestled over his left arm, his other arm wrapped around her, just above her waist, her back against his chest. It was heavenly. She turned her head to kiss the arm beneath her head and he responded by kissing the back of her hair and squeezing her closer to him.

"You're awake?" she said quietly.

"Yes, I told you I wanted to hold you while you slept. I didn't want to miss it," he answered.

She sighed. She was very happy. There was nothing else she wanted. It was a sublimely perfect moment.

And then she noticed he was a little tense. He still radiated warmth and peace. She never wanted him to let her go but … something was wrong.

"What is it, Jace?" she asked him. "What's bothering you?"

He was silent for a beat but then told her, "Nothing, don't worry about a thing."

"I know something's wrong. You know you can tell me anything." She lifted a hand and stroked the light golden fuzz on his arm that held her around her ribs.

She waited patiently. She could tell he was struggling with the words.

"We … we didn't … use anything," he managed to explain. "I came inside you … I'm sorry, baby."

"Oh, Jace," she turned over to face him, "I'm on birth control."

For a second he looked relieved and she could feel the tension leave his body only to return in a flash, a scowl on his face and the hardness returning to his body.

"Why are you on birth control?" he asked in a placid voice but she could see storm clouds brewing in his eyes.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," she shook her head and laughed. "Jace, it has been terrifically obvious to me since that first time we kissed, we'd be heading here sooner or later and seeing as how I am completely incapable of rational thought when you touch me, I thought it would be better to have that covered ahead of time."

"Oh." The crease between his brows disappeared. "That's a good answer."

Uh oh, he was giving her the look. For a second she felt herself quailing at how he owned her with that look but then she asked herself, what difference does it make now? Honestly, he's had you. There was nothing she wouldn't give him.

"Are you sore?" he whispered in a low, sizzling voice.

She nodded her head and said, "But I still want more," and she pulled him closer, kissed him fiercely and rolled on top of him.

* * *

Clary had awoken minutes after Jace had fallen asleep. Their limbs were tangled around each other. It hadn't been easy unraveling her body out of his but she didn't want to disturb him. She hoped he would sleep and have sweet dreams of her just like she did about him. She wanted so very badly to tell him she loved him. It was getting harder and harder to keep it in. She had promised herself that she would wait until he could say it first but … she was beginning to think that might never happen. What if she told him and he didn't say it back? That would hurt. A lot. But … if he still wanted her, if it didn't chase him away, she still wanted to tell him. Because she wanted him to know. She wanted him to know that he was her world.

She needed some distance. She could never think clearly around him. She needed to figure out what to do. She got up and went into the adjoining bathroom to his room and went into the shower. She was sorry to wash him off her. She loved the way he smelled. She loved that she smelled like him but hell, she was a human being and human beings had to concern themselves with basic hygiene. God, she hated how idiotically practical she could be. But, she supposed Jace probably wouldn't appreciate it if she ran around unwashed just to keep his scent on her. She found a soft fluffy bathrobe, way too big, but so comfy and it also smelled intoxicatingly like Jace so she put it on and allowed herself the luxury of burrowing into it.

There was another connecting door out of the bathroom that lead into a dressing room. Wow, it must be good to be rich. It was just as neat and tidy as his bedroom so there wasn't much to see other than floor to ceiling mirrors and a meticulously organized wardrobe and racks of clothes. Far more interesting was a large glass door that lead to an outdoor balcony. She opened it and stepped outside. There was a cool breeze that made her grateful for the snuggly bathrobe that encased her.

There was even an impressively large stone bench and she moved over to it and sat. She looked out at the gardens and tried to memorize everything. The shadows and muted greens of the grounds, the trees and shrubbery. The purplish blues and black of the skies and the sparkling diamond like stars above her head. If she could be sure no one would hear her she would have yelled out how very much in love she was and then she almost jumped out of her skin when she realized she was not alone.

For a minute she thought it was a ghost and was left frozen and speechless in abject fear but as her eyes adjusted to the starry darkness she could make out the shape and then the face. It was Jace's grandmother. She wasn't sure if she were any less afraid with this discovery.

"Clary, right?" Madame Herondale spoke distinctly. She sounded perfectly alert even in this late hour.

"Yes, ma'am," she replied automatically.

"So, you're here," the old lady continued. Her eyes were hard but very bright. Clary would have liked to paint her portrait in that moment. There was something very striking about her, something that Clary would have very much liked to capture. She was a hard woman but strong, incredibly strong and unrelenting.

"You're a clever girl," Madame Herondale told her. There was no judgment and no sentiment in her voice. "I didn't think you'd make this mistake."

Clary had no idea how to answer her and she stayed silent, waiting and watching.

"You know he'll lose interest now, don't you, dear?" Madame Herondale explained. "He's never brought a girl home before, though. I wonder … I suppose you just managed to hold out longer than he's ever had to wait. I'm sure he found the challenge … appealing."

Clary had never felt such a tumult of confusion and hurt in her life. Was she hearing right? Is this what Jace's grandmother thought of her? She wanted to run and hide or scream and fight. She didn't know what to do and it kept her rooted to the spot, glaring at the old lady.

"Now, don't get yourself agitated, dear," Madame Herondale spoke smoothly. "I don't want to upset you. I'd just rather not have another moping teenage girl threatening to kill herself, calling constantly and haunting our gateway for months … and you do understand, he's leaving. He has responsibilities. I'm not exactly sure which University we'll send him to … but it will be far away from here."

And now Clary knew. Without a doubt, Jace's grandmother thought she was riff raff, trash, something Jace would play with while he was slumming at a public high school but would soon discard. She was surprised when she felt herself hiccupping and then realized they were sobs.

"I'm leaving now," Clary said in a steely voice that surprised her. She felt like dissolving into a puddle of tears but something wouldn't let her. She would not let this terrible old lady see how she had destroyed her.

"Yes, I think that would be best, dear," Madame Herondale replied with a gracious smile. "Don't worry about Jace. I'll explain you had to leave … if he asks. He probably won't."

Clary spun around and walked back into Jace's room. He was still asleep, soundly, holding a pillow tight in his arms, a gentle smile on his face. She wanted to stop and watch him. She wanted to believe he dreamed of her but she could not stay here. Not with that hateful old woman who clearly wanted her out of her home. And maybe she was right. Maybe Jace would lose interest now. He never promised her anything. He never said he loved her. He never lied to her. She dressed quickly and retrieved her duffle bag. She wasn't entirely sure how she would get home but somehow she would figure it out. She would walk home before she stayed here another minute.

But she couldn't just leave him. Not like this. She stopped by the side of the bed and just watched him, emblazoning the sight of him into her memory. I will never forget you, she thought. I will never forget how wonderful you made me feel and how perfect it was while it lasted. She bent down and kissed his lips. He stirred a little then and moaned something unintelligible.

"I love you," she whispered, "I will never love another the way I loved you," and then she turned and left.

* * *

Clary stayed home for a week, refused to take any calls, turned off her phone and pretended to be too vastly ill to leave her bed. Her aunt would shuffle into her room, take her temperature, tell her she didn't have a fever but the sight of Clary's puffy red eyes, red nose and horrid appearance seemed to convince her to leave her alone. Jonathan sat with her and repeatedly asked her what was wrong, what happened, but in the end he could tell he would get nothing out of her and instead came in to drop off her school assignments and try to cheer her up with random school gossip. He seemed to know that Clary would not tolerate any mention of Jace so he stayed clear of that topic.

Izzy came by and shook her head sadly when she observed the state Clary was in. Clary did rouse herself enough to tell Izzy she must not blame herself. It was entirely her own fault and she would not allow Izzy to take any of the blame. Clary felt obligated to share a bit of what transpired with Izzy. After all, Izzy had warned her, had tried to protect her, but she hadn't listened. She had forced Izzy to help her.

"But, Clary, I just don't understand. That wasn't Jace. It was his grandmother. He didn't say any of those things and …," Izzy spoke plaintively.

"I know, Iz," Clary worked hard to stay strong in front of Izzy. "But don't you see, it will never work. I don't even know what he feels for me, not really. It's always been me. I was the one all crazy in love. I was the one to … tell him he was my boyfriend, to ask him to … He won't be here much longer anyway."

"Clary … I think you should talk to him. He looks …," Izzy started.

"No, Izzy," Clary shut her down quickly. "I don't want to hear about Jace. I don't want to think about him anymore. I want that part of my life to be over."

But Clary knew that was a lie. A lie she desperately wanted to believe. She would never get over Jace … but she would survive. She would not curl up and die. She had always known this could not be forever, didn't she? But, could she really stay away from him? That was what kept her hiding at home. Something had changed since they had been together, since their bodies had connected and formed one blissful being. The madness to touch him, kiss him, hold him was mercifully subdued but now … there was a different kind of constant ache flowing through her body. One that she knew she could control … for now … but eventually, something inside her would shrivel up and die if … if … she had to live without him, without him inside her again, without their bodies joined again.

Simon also came to visit. He just sat next to her and watched her. Held her hand and didn't say a word. That was when she knew she would love Simon forever. He knew her. He knew she couldn't talk, that the best thing anyone could do was to let her know they were there for her and that was it.

And finally, she thought she was ready to go back to school. She knew Jace had probably asked about her, probably wondered why she just disappeared but he had a strong ego and would not let anyone think he cared too much. She wouldn't be shocked if he had another girlfriend by now. By his grandmother's estimation, she had lost her hold on him when she slept with him but … she wasn't sorry. She knew she would not change that. It hurt so bad now but it had been the best, most profound experience in her life. It had been perfect and it had been worth it. You couldn't expect perfection to last long. That was just stupid.

So when she came downstairs, dressed and ready to return to school she was more than a little surprised to find Jonathan and her Aunt Hodge huddled together, speaking quietly and furtively. The sight of his white blonde head and her gray bun so close to each other, working together in some manner, almost had her rubbing her eyes in disbelief. Then Jonathan turned to her, clearly discomfited that she caught them in some private conference.

"Hey, Clary, ready to go back?" he swiftly eased back to himself, exuding a relaxed confidence.

"Yes," she answered plainly. She had been grateful to find a pair of baggy oversized jeans and an old sweatshirt at the bottom of her dresser. It was all she could find of her old discarded garments but that would do for today and it was all about getting through one day at a time.

Jonathan looked her up and down thoughtfully. "Going to the gym today? I think it's your favorite step and sculpt class."

"I suppose," she answered noncommittally, then nodded more firmly, "Yes, I'm going."

"Do you want me to pick you up?" he asked, concern clear on his face.

"Don't be silly," Clary tried to put a lightness in her tone but failed miserably. "You have practice. You're the team captain. You can't skip that."

"Clary …," Jonathan started.

"No, Jonathan," she ended. "Simon. Simon will take me home."

Clary wasn't actually certain if Simon would be there. He never took the step classes. He tried once and decreed that men lacked the coordination to perform the movements. Although she was pretty sure if boys just attempted the class more than once they would be fine. But he usually used the equipment and joined her afterwards to go home.

"Hmm," Jonathan watched her. "Okay. I'll talk to him."

"Ugh," she mumbled but didn't bother arguing with him. Even without Jace around, he would not stop … caring for her.

The thought spurred her movements before any direction came from her brain. She hugged him tight and rested her head on his chest. And of course she knew it was her brother she held but his height, his strong and firm body, the way he lifted his hand and gently caressed the back of her head had her immediately pulling away from him. She would get over it. Of course she would but for now …

She did not meet Jonathan's eyes when she said, "I guess we should get a move on, then."

"Clary, before we go, we need to talk," Jonathan levelled a serious but kind gaze at her. "I need to know if Jace did something. Did he hurt you? Did he break up with you?"

For a moment she had no idea how to answer Jonathan's questions and then she shook her head adamantly. "No, no to all of those things. He's the best thing that ever happened to me," and ever will happen to me she mentally added.

"So, what is going on? Why won't you answer his calls? Why won't you let him see you?" Jonathan looked completely bewildered.

"Because … we shouldn't be together. I don't think that's what's best for him … His grandmother hates me." Her last words were spoken very quietly but Jonathan heard her anyway.

"What do you mean? She loves us," Jonathan asserted confidently.

Clary would have burst out laughing under normal circumstances but right now she could not summon the humor. "She loves you. She does not care for me … at all."

Jonathan scowled and Clary could see he didn't get it. He couldn't see how anyone could not love her and this knowledge had her eyes swimming with tears.

"Forget it, Jonathan. I'll figure it out," Clary gave him a small smile. "I love you," she added.

"Clary, do you want to see Jace now?" he asked uncomfortably.

"What do you mean?" she puzzled.

"I mean, he waits outside every morning to see if you're coming out and only leaves when he sees me drive away … alone," Jonathan answered quickly.

"Oh." Clary felt empty. She wasn't sure what she should do with this information but knew for certain that in that moment there was no way she was strong enough to face him. Of course she knew she would have to see him and speak with him at some point but … she was a coward. She would say things she shouldn't say. She did not want to make him choose between her and the only family he had left. She did not want to beg him to say he loved her, that he would stay with her, that they would be together forever. But she knew if she saw him right now she would not be able to stop herself.

"No, I can't see him now," Clary slumped back into a chair. "I … I guess I'll stay home another day."

"Clary …." Jonathan spoke disapprovingly. "Listen, I'll drive around the block. He'll go. Then I'll come back for you but … the school's not that big. You will run into him eventually."

"I know that," Clary closed her eyes. "I'll deal with that when that happens but … not … now."

Jonathan shook his head sadly. "You know, baby girl, I never thought you and him together was a good idea. I thought he … wouldn't treat you right … but … I think he really cares for you. You should talk to him."

Clary wondered if the world had turned upside down and turned everyone into their opposite counterparts.

"Ok, big brother," Clary answered. "I will talk to him … later."

* * *

She had wandered around school like a zombie. Izzy and Simon had been quite enthusiastic to see her back and were very supportive. For once the two of them sat separately at lunch and stationed themselves at either side of her.

"Jonathan told me you're going to the gym today. We'll come with, right Izzy?" said Simon.

"Of course," Izzy agreed.

She had not spent a moment alone all day. It had been a blessing, really, but also exhausting. Either Izzy, Simon or even Jonathan had accompanied her to classes, sat with her at lunch or during study period and the whole time she tried her best to assure them she was fine. She now realized that took a great deal of energy and only wanted to get home and collapse onto her bed.

She decided to walk to the gym … alone. It wasn't far away and she needed some time away from her friends' well-meaning but oppressive kindness. She sent a text to both Izzy and Simon to let them know she would meet them there and headed out the school.

The sight of Jace leaning lazily against one of the brick ledges at the entrance of the school suspended her steps. His head was turned away but it was impossible to miss him. She realized she still possessed the innate sense of his proximity. She had not noticed it much during the months they 'dated' since the slightest feel of him had her craning around to catch sight of him and then running to its source. It took a few seconds to comprehend this while she watched him slouched comfortably, his hands behind him and propping his perfect body up against the concrete slab. He was facing a girl. Of course he was with a girl. She was not someone Clary recognized. Was she new? No, she wore a uniform, a private school uniform. It looked like the maroon and navy blue colors representing the most exclusive and expensive school in town. She was very pretty with long auburn hair, the exact shade Clary always dreamed her own hair would grow into, full and wavy, none of the messy curls that covered her own head. And tall, shorter than Jace of course, but a good six inches above Clary. It was obvious she had an enviable figure even under the loose sweater she wore and a lovely face, really. Clary couldn't tell exactly what color her eyes were but there were certainly flecks of green in them. From her side view of Jace's face, she could not see his eyes but his lips were clearly lifted up in a smile and the girl brought a hand up to Jace's chest and … left it there. She was saying something to him and smiling. Oh God, even that was darling.

Clary didn't know why she couldn't move away. She had to move. She had to leave but it felt as if she had to permanently engrave this image into her head. She had to capture every fucking detail … and then she saw him grow stiff. The relaxed pose turned hard and she couldn't say how she could tell exactly, maybe it was just more of her crazy obsessive connection with him. Who the hell cared? It was enough that she knew he knew she was there. He hadn't seen her yet but he would turn soon and that made her move like her feet were on fire. She did a whirling about face and launched herself around the bend, straight into a hard, muscular body. The arms attached to that body grabbed her waist and kept her from falling backwards.

Oh Good Lord, it was Sebastian!

"Get off me," she hissed quietly.

She was out of sightline from where Jace stood at the entrance but not far. If Jace just took a few steps into the school, there would be no place to hide.

"What's the hurry, sweetheart?" he drawled out and squeezed her waist before releasing his hold on her.

"Yuck!" she involuntarily exclaimed. Realizing how loud she had spoken she quickly ducked into an empty classroom and sighed in relief before the door opened and Sebastian followed her in.

"What are you doing?" She wasn't sure why she was so hostile with Sebastian. She knew it would egg him on but she couldn't help herself. There was something about him. She didn't like it, in fact she downright hated it but … she was attracted to him and that made her want to throw something at him.

"Are you always this fired up?" he asked.

"Why are you following me?" she glared at him.

"You seemed distressed and I never abandon a damsel in distress," he answered glibly.

A rude noise escaped her lips. "Well, I thank you for your concern but I'm fine so please feel free to leave."

Sebastian eyed her thoughtfully. "So … you're back to the vagrant look?"

"What do you mean? These clothes are clean!" Trust Sebastian to bring out the harpy in her.

He snickered and sat back on one of the desks. "You know it won't work anymore. We've all seen what you really look like."

She cursed herself when she felt a blush rise up her cheeks. "Why are you looking at me? I thought you couldn't tell if I was a boy or a girl."

She wished she hadn't said that. He could easily interpret that as flirting and she wasn't entirely certain that she wasn't flirting. Why oh why didn't she just tell him to get out? Why oh why did he make her weak in the knees? Only Jace had ever stirred a similar reaction from her although that was like a volcanic eruption and this was more like a sultry ooze. She hated Sebastian and not even for his rude behavior with her. It was mostly about how badly he had hurt Izzy. It had taken two months before Izzy got over him. They had dated for a whole month, a surprisingly long stretch for Sebastian, and then it ended swiftly and brutally. Clary had never asked for the gory details and Izzy seemed to appreciate that but there was enough gossip around the school hallways to inform Clary that they had fought during a movie date about Sebastian's wandering eye and he had loudly proclaimed he didn't need the aggravation, their time was up and left her there. They had spent several weeks huddled up in Izzy's room, pigging out on ice cream, chips and pizza and Clary eventually lured her out with the latest spring fashion catalogs.

Sebastian smiled like a cat that had cornered a mouse. "There's no question about it anymore, sweetheart."

He called her sweet… and it felt like a stabbing needle into her heart. Jace … Jace called her that when they …

"Don't call me that. Never call me that again," she said vehemently.

He lifted his black brows in surprise but answered mildly. "Ok, dollface. Is that better?"

"Yes," she answered and then, "No, wait …"

"Calm down, Clary," Sebastian smirked. "I get it. We can trade pet names later. So, you and Herondale … are through?"

"Did he say that?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

Sebastian stood up and walked over to her. She watched him carefully. She wasn't sure what she was seeing but for once she did not feel an immediate reflex to bolt in the opposite direction. He sat next to her and tucked a strand of curls that had escaped from the messy ponytail behind her ear.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," he said in a very soft, very un-Sebastian like tone. "First of all, I know for a fact your brother would kill me if I ever … had dishonorable intentions with you and secondly, there's something about you. You put me in my place and …," he stopped.

Clary vaguely wondered what he was going to say but it was clear he would not finish, not now.

"So … did Jace … did he say … we're through?" She had to know. If that were true … well, for starters, she didn't have to hide from him. She could waltz out of there while he chatted up his next conquest and there would be no further confrontation. She had needlessly worried that she might be hurting him and …

"No, I don't think so," Sebastian answered. "Jace doesn't talk to me but I overheard him talking to Jordan. Jordan was asking about some date Jace has with Daphne Brooks. Her father's senior partner at the Brooks, Wheatland and Lawrence law firm and pretty tight with his grandmother. Seems they're going to a gala ball that his grandmother chairs. Sounded … swanky."

Clary nodded her head as if it all made sense.

"And then Jordan asked about you," Sebastian spoke with a cautious look in his eyes. "He asked if you minded … well he said 'your girlfriend.' I sorta assumed that was you and … Jace said he doesn't know if he has a girlfriend … anymore."

Clary continued her demented nodding then forced herself to stop. "Ok, thank you for that information, Sebastian. Now, if you would be so good as to look out the door and tell me if there's anyone out there, specifically by the school entrance that I may know, I would be very much obligated to you."

"Clary," the un-Sebastian Sebastian was still there and still talking to her in a soft and sympathetic voice. "Do you want my advice?"

She shrugged. She didn't know. She just knew she had to get out of here.

"The thing is, Clary. One day you'll get over this and find out there is so much more out there. You're only sixteen … seventeen now and I know it sucks. Getting your heart broken sucks but it will heal and someday you'll give your heart to someone who will cherish it and give you their own heart without any questions or uncertainty."

She looked at him and they held an unwavering gaze.

"Why are you saying this to me? How do you know my heart … is broken? Why are you assuming there are questions or uncertainty?" she muttered.

Sebastian took her hand and it felt nice. It was really very strange. It helped.

"I'm not unfamiliar with the twists and turns, the murky shadows and glorious brightness cast by the demands of love," he spoke poetically.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked, not even understanding why that should interest her.

"Yes," he answered.

"What happened?" she tilted her head in wonder. The idea of Sebastian in love was an alien concept.

"I was too stupid to realize it and I was afraid of being weak. I chased her away and by the time I realized it, it was too late. You see, she was sick. She had leukemia. She died." Sebastian explained soberly.

"Oh my God," Clary sobbed a little. "I'm so sorry."

Sebastian lowered his head so she couldn't see his eyes anymore and then lifted it again so there was only a bright gleam in his black eyes and his face had returned to its usual self-assurance.

"It was a long time ago. You might say it propelled me into my current scoundrel persona," he grinned wickedly but Clary could now see it was a mask.

"Is that what you call it?" she returned lightly. "I'd call it an asshat."

The grin on his face changed and it felt real. "Can we be friends now?" he asked and the tentative quality in his voice won her.

"I think so. But … we'll try it out. See if it fits. Does that work?" she answered hesitantly.


	12. Chapter 12 Complete 180

"How much longer am I going to have to sit here like this?" Sebastian spoke in a martyred tone but stayed motionless only flickering and widening his eyes at her to demonstrate the great ordeal he was under.

"You moved," she complained but turned her head away to hide the smirk on her face.

At least he could not grumble about the temperature. They were set up outdoors in the backyard at Clary's home, a comfortable breeze in the air and the bright daylight tempered by large gray clouds overhead.

"You sure it's not going to rain?" he asked for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

"You know, contrary to your belief, I am not God and I do not actually control these things but I did check the forecast and it said cloudy skies but no rain," she answered.

She was really very pleased with how the portrait was turning out. It was funny how everything had turned out. They had been hanging out during study hall and she had lamented the lack of inspiration for her artwork. She was beginning to feel the pressure of building up her portfolio for art school submissions. Sebastian naturally joked how he himself was the greatest work of art imaginable which led to Clary's lightbulb moment. He must sit for her. He was quite lovely to behold and would make an excellent subject. With enough flattery and straight up nagging he had agreed.

"So … are you seeing Jace tonight?" he asked offhandedly.

"Umm … I don't know." She was trying to blend a subtle mix of blue, purple and black to capture the tints in his hair and began to fumble a bit now that images of Jace assailed her thoughts.

He would be leaving for Harvard soon. Earlier than the rest of the college bound crowd but his grandmother had many people to introduce him to and many important East Coast events that he had to attend before classes started. Jonathan wouldn't be joining the Northwestern Wildcats for another month yet and he had to arrive before the semester started to begin training. His high school team had won the State Championship and Jonathan had been recruited to Northwestern with a full scholarship. Sebastian on the other hand was staying local at the State University. She would miss them both very much although she expected to see Jace at least every other week.

Two months had passed since that wonderful and terrible night at Jace's house and she finally talked with him before a second week had elapsed. After seeing Jace on the school steps with that girl, Clary had tossed and turned all night and finally decided she would look for Jace and speak to him the following day. It was not fair to him to keep him guessing if he even had a girlfriend and she needed to know where they stood.

So the next morning she got up an hour earlier than usual, got dressed and prepared for school, then walked out the door. She had no idea if Jace would still be waiting for her in the morning or if he would even show up this early but she forced herself to see while her courage was still high. The sun was bright and a coolness lingered in the air with the morning dew. She stood on the porch, looking all around but his car was nowhere to be seen. Jace was not there and she was both disappointed and relieved. She still did not know what she would say to him but she could not shut off the excitement and desire to see him now that she was determined to meet him. She closed her eyes and was about to head back into the house when she heard footsteps moving toward her. She did not need to open her eyes to know it was him.

He was oddly slouched over and had on a black sweatshirt with a hoody that covered his head, hiding much of his golden beauty. She did not think she would have recognized him if she only had to rely on her eyes. It was startling how he appeared to be a different person without his proudly erect stature. He walked over to her slowly, his face down and stopped about six feet away then lifted his eyes. They roamed up and down her body as if they were trying to commit every detail of her appearance to memory and then gazed steadfastly on her face but avoided her eyes.

She found it hard to breathe having him this close to her again and then she knew what to say. "I'm sorry I avoided you, Jace. That was wrong. I know that."

He didn't say a word but she could see his mouth thin and his entire body seemed to tense and turn into itself.

"The thing is," she continued softly. "I'm afraid that I don't fit into your life. You have so many things ahead of you. You already have so much and soon you'll have even more responsibilities. I … don't think a girlfriend is a good idea for you right now, especially one you'll have to leave behind."

There, she said it. Not everything, but the important parts.

And then his long legs strode over to her in two quick steps, grabbed her and held her so tight it felt as if he was trying to meld their bodies into one. He bent over her, almost folding in half given their height difference and buried his face into her hair. She put her own arms around him. It felt amazing holding him and being in his arms again.

"Please … please … don't leave me," he whispered hoarsely. "I need you … so … much," and then he was trembling in her arms.

They stood out there like that so long that eventually Jonathan and Aunt Hodge came out and told them to get inside to talk and miraculously left them alone. Neither of them mentioned his grandmother. Jace explained that it was true. He would be leaving. There would be more expected of him but none of that mattered if she weren't a part of his life, that he would not be able to face any of these things if he lost her. Clary looked at him uncertainly. He had been on track to do all these things before he had ever met her and seemed to be doing just fine but he would not listen to this logic. It was too late to try to figure out what their lives might have been if they had never met. All he knew was that it would be empty and devoid of meaning if she wasn't in it now. She had shed many tears, mostly joyful tears, and they had promised to talk through any doubts and not to shut the other out.

And after that week of seeing her so broken after some acknowledged misunderstanding with Jace, her aunt and Jonathan ceased their constant surveillance. So, they had every weekend to themselves. It was almost worth the endless tears and wrenching heartache during that week. Almost, but not quite. Clary was very afraid of experiencing that again. But he still hadn't told her he loved her. Clary finally decided she would not wait anymore. She would tell him and let the chips fall where they may.

Jace's family had another home on the other side of town. Clary didn't really know why. She thought perhaps his grandparents had separated before his grandfather's death and this was his bachelor pad. It was a large home, easily twice as big as the one she shared with her aunt and her brother but not half the size of the manor house and was sparsely furnished. The entire house reminded her of Jace's bedroom in that way and there were no servants so they could freely roam around the house naked which had become their custom when they stayed there every weekend.

She was fairly certain her brother and her aunt knew she was not sleeping at Izzy's house every weekend but neither questioned her when she told them she'd be staying there. And she was allowed out with Jace every day until eight unless her grades suffered and then back to home patrol. They rushed through homework very quickly to spend at least an hour every day wrapped in each other's bodies. Incredibly, it got better and better as time passed. Clary worried a little how she could wait two weeks to be back in his embrace again once he left but they would have to manage.

But tonight, Jace had some other family obligated event to attend. A new wing of the Idris Museum was opening thanks to the Herondale's donation and he was told he must attend the grand opening and accompanying dinner. This time he was expected to escort a Regina Spalding as his date. Another daughter of another close associate and family friend. Clary did not question these dates or hold them against him. She fully understood this was part of what was expected of him as the heir to the Herondale business. Jace had explained the situation, that he had no inclination to squire around an unknown daughter to a business ally but he had gotten used to it since that became part of his duties when he turned thirteen. But, if she had any objection, he would gladly tell his grandmother that his girlfriend was not comfortable with these arrangements and so, neither was he. She looked disbelievingly at him when he asked her this, like his grandmother needed any more reason to hate her. No, of course not, I don't mind, she answered. But she minded a little if she happened to see a photo of him with his date, looking impeccably handsome and polished like gleaming gold and always with a lovely young woman hanging, clearly delighted, on his arm. She realized Jace was something of a high society celebrity, being the heir to a sizable fortune and having godlike features that magnetically drew the attention of society pages and tabloid shots.

"So, did you tell him?" Sebastian continued. He stayed very still. He was a remarkably good model but she refrained from telling him this. He didn't need any more fuel for his already massive ego.

More surprising than that she and Jace managed to stay together, was how her relationship with Sebastian had done a complete 180. The animosity and dislike, the strained sexual undercurrent that ran between them had transformed into an open and honest friendship. Somehow that conversation they had when she still hid from Jace had been the catalyst. She could see when he was acting a part and when he was real and the more she only responded to the real Sebastian the more that side of him came out for her.

Knowing his tragic romantic past created a bridge between them and she felt surprisingly comfortable sharing her own relationship issues with him. She told him how Jace never said he loved her, that it bothered her and that she had decided she would not wait anymore for him to say the words. She would just tell him how she felt.

Sebastian did not encourage or discourage this decision. He never voiced an opinion on who may be right or wrong. She felt like Sebastian listened without judgment and sometimes her problems felt far away and less potent when he gave her a sympathetic hug.

"No, not yet. Soon, though. I guess I wanted to wait a little longer. I don't want to spoil things during the short time he's still here," she explained.

Sebastian didn't look at her. "Well, tell me how it goes."

"You're a good friend," Clary thanked him. "You know, there's no way I'm going to finish this now. Let me take a few pictures so I can work off that later on.

Clary pulled out her phone and started snapping away.

"You mean you could've just done that? I didn't have to sit here like a statue this whole time?" Sebastian looked sorely put out.

"None of that, Sebina. Back to that mysteriously thoughtful and elusive Mona Lisa expression," Clary responded. "And it's always better using a live model. There are nuances you can't catch in a photo."

"You're a hard task master, Clarence," Sebastian griped.

"Clary!" Jace called out, walking briskly over to them.

The phone almost flew out of her hands. She had not really expected to see or hear from Jace today. Maybe a text later to tell her how the evening went, what time he'd pick her up tomorrow. It was a wonderful surprise and she jumped into Jace's open arms. He had a wide grin on his face and looked almost as overjoyed as she felt.

"Baby! You're here! How?" she said happily.

They stayed in each other's arms. There was still nothing like being in Jace's arms and having her own arms around him. The time they spent together every day, completely bare to one another, connected and a part of each other, kept her passion for him manageable. It had not receded in any way, it only grew and grew but having him on a daily basis kept the need to put her hands all over him whenever she saw him at bay. Izzy laughingly said their honeymoon must be over now that they no longer uncontrollably groped each other at which Clary only turned to look at Jace and exchanged a momentary look. She still had no idea what they said with their eyes but she could feel that they both knew Izzy's comment to be untrue, that there would never be an end to the raw passion they felt for each other. At least that's what she felt when their eyes met. At other times, when he wasn't with her, when she missed him, the doubts would creep in again. But of course that did not apply to this moment with Jace in her arms. He pulled his head back but kept her locked in his embrace.

"I have some great news!" he said excitedly.

"What? Tell me quick!" It was part of their connection. When he felt something strongly, it always affected her.

He laughed happily and kissed her nose. "I told grandmother I wanted you to be my date tonight. I told her I was tired of pretending to be the eligible bachelor heir about town and I just wouldn't go if you couldn't come with me and … she agreed!"

Clary frowned, not quite so pleased with this news. "Jace, you shouldn't have done that."

She pushed out of his hold but kept his hand in hers. "I don't want your grandmother's … animosity … and besides, I don't have anything to wear."

Jace pulled her back into his hold. "Don't be silly. She's pissed but it's entirely directed where it belongs … at me and you can wear your prom dress. You looked beautiful in that."

"But what about Regina Spalding? It seems wrong to stand her up," Clary grasped.

"I told grandmother I'd find a suitable date for Regina. Someone she wouldn't mind replacing with me. Which reminds me, is Jonathan available tonight?" Jace chuckled.

He was still in high spirits and Clary hated to dampen them but she really did not want to be anywhere near his grandmother and a museum dinner that was honoring her and her family name did not seem the place to be if she wanted to avoid the old lady. "No, Jonathan's got a date with Seelie. I can pretty much guarantee that Seelie will not approve of Jonathan breaking their date to take another fancy rich girl to the museum."

But Jace would not be dissuaded. "What about you, Sebastian? I hear you know how to charm the ladies and I think Regina's just your type."

Sebastian looked at Jace blankly. "And what's my type, Jace?"

"Oh, she's very attractive. She's under 5'4" and she's got naturally curly hair. Sound appealing?" Jace smiled agreeably but Clary felt she was missing something.

"I don't know. What color is her hair?" Sebastian questioned with an equally affable expression.

Clary watched them both, back and forth. Jace had not liked the prospect of her friendship with Sebastian at all. After they had reconciled and it became apparent that Sebastian was now a part of her life, a purely platonic part of course, Clary had been somewhat startled at the hard line Jace would take where it concerned Sebastian and her. He refused to allow her to be alone with him. He constantly questioned why she would even want to spend time with him. Did she like him? Did she want him? They had actually almost argued over it but she remained steadfast with the love and affection she always showered over Jace but similarly would not budget that Sebastian was her friend now and eventually Jace thawed out. He could see for himself that they were only friends and they spent much of their time with Clary calling out his ridiculous conceited behavior and his sibling-like responses alternatively referring to her as a pipsqueak hellion or redheaded monster. And for a while Jace and Sebastian seemed to settle into a peaceful détente. They had even gone out on double dates although Sebastian could never settle down with one girl to make it a regular occurrence but Clary thought they might actually become friends. Then something new transpired. She didn't know what happened, except it was after one of these double dates when she had returned from the girl's room with Sebastian's date. She had liked that one … Sandy, but she didn't last either. And they had come back to find Jace and Sebastian talking and there was something about the way they looked at each other that felt … hostile. And after that there was a noticeable strain between them that made it clear to Clary they could not be friends but at least Jace did not insist she stay away from him anymore and they remained stiffly cordial.

"It's a lovely chestnut brown but in the right light you can see red highlights," Jace described.

Clary found this detail odd and looked up at Jace baffled, but Jace did not take his eyes off Sebastian.

"I don't know what you're doing," she interjected, "but I happen to know Sebastian is not partial to any of those traits except maybe that she's a girl and pretty. Am I right?" Clary turned to Sebastian then to back up her statement and was surprised to see Sebastian looking up at her like a lost puppy.

"What's the matter with you?" she scowled. She felt as if he was setting her up for some joke but he only looked away and then turned back to say, "Well, it's up to Clary. Do you want me to take this Regina out?"

Clary could not shake the feeling there was something weird going on here. And why the hell would Sebastian say that? Why should it be up to her but then she turned to Jace and she could see this was important to him. He really wanted her there and damn it, screw that old lady. She would not stay away to avoid her if Jace wanted her there. There was really no other choice.

"Yes, that would be great, Sebastian," she nodded and smiled appreciatively at him. "You never know, Sebina, she may just be the girl of your dreams … at least you know she must be beautiful and loaded. Jace's grandmother only sets him up with the very finest young ladies imaginable. Didn't you say you're looking for a good woman who can take care of you?" she joked but Sebastian did not return her smile.

"Ok, Clary," Sebastian answered and got up. "I guess I should go home and clean up. Don't worry, Jace. I won't disappoint Miss Spalding."

"I didn't think you would," Jace replied. "We'll meet at the museum. Six pm. I'll introduce you to Regina and her family."

Sebastian nodded, gave Clary one last indecipherable look and left

"What was that?" she asked herself aloud.

She didn't expect Jace to answer but he did. "Sometimes, he just needs to be reminded of his place. Doesn't like it much, though."

Clary frowned, even more confused. "That doesn't sound very nice, Jace."

The look he gave was resolute. "He needs to remember his place when it comes to you and me. You are mine, aren't you?"

The way he said it reminded Clary of the first few days with Jace uncharacteristically insecure about her friendship with Sebastian.

"Of course I'm yours. I'll always be yours," she said ardently.

Jace seemed very satisfied with this answer, grinned widely and hugged her. "Do you want to go to the house? We don't have to be at the museum for another two hours."

"Yes, but let me get my things so I can get ready there." She let her head rest against his chest.

She realized then that an oppressive weight had lifted from her heart. She had not noticed it settle there but it seemed the expectation that she would not be with Jace until the following day had left a heaviness. It was worrisome but she was too happy in that moment to think much about it. But she couldn't help wondering what would happen when they weren't together every day?


	13. Chapter 13 I Can't

They had cut it close but managed to get to the museum at six on the dot. It was not really surprising that they became so absorbed in each other that they lost track of time and even the sound of the alarm did not pull them away until a good half hour after they had planned. The ensuing rush to get washed, her spirited refusal to shower with him (there was no way they'd get there on time then), pulling on the dress in madcap fashion (fortunately she got that on the right way, there were some complicated straps involved that Izzy had helped her with the last time), even a quick hand with some makeup (another skill learned from Izzy's tutelage) was managed within fifteen minutes.

There was a little panic when she could not remember if she brought the matching heeled sandals. She wasn't a fan of heels but they did go fabulously with the gossamer colors and flow of the dress and even she could tell the sneakers she wore to the house would so not go with the dress but Jace, her hero, had found them. Somehow they had landed behind the large dresser. Clary couldn't guess how they ended up there but they had hardly placed their things down in a calm and orderly manner when they arrived. The heat reflexively rose to her cheeks thinking about how they raced into the bedroom, swiftly and expertly undressed each other and spent every minute they could molded onto each other. It was not until they arrived at the museum and they were getting out of his car that Clary remembered she had done nothing with her hair. She self-consciously patted at it and immediately regretted it when she realized it was an uncontrollable riot.

Jace slid his arm around her waist and guided her to the carpeted walkway up to the entrance.

"Why didn't you say something about my hair?" she whispered in his ear.

He looked down at her. He was so impossibly gorgeous she couldn't help wrapping both arms around his slim tuxedoed waist. And apparently he had managed to do something with his hair. Although she loved the way his golden curls usually fell perfectly tousled around his head, he had slicked it back so the gold in his hair positively shimmered as it captured the light. Her eyes met his and she caught her own reflection in them, which happened every now and then, and when it did she felt she could see what he saw when he looked at her. Her green eyes were intensely bright, emphasized and enlarged with black liner and a few strokes of mascara, her skin had taken on a creamy glow and her unruly curls formed a wild halo over her head that flashed like fire with brilliant copper, yellow, red and even gold. With her hair and her coal rimmed eyes, she looked like a mythical siren and the smattering of light freckles across her nose did not detract but gave her an otherworldly nymph-like appearance.

She recognized this in Jace's eyes and could even see him catch his breath, a stunned look on his face but she couldn't help herself when she lamented, "It looks like I just rolled out of bed."

The steamy look in his eyes made her squirm. "Yes, right out of my bed."

He bent his head down for a kiss and it flooded her sense with a craving to be back in his bed, his naked body on top of her and deep inside her.

And then the sound of clicking cameras and a lightning storm of camera flashes jolted her out of her dreamy reverie.

"Who's the pretty girl, Jace?" a voice called out.

"Jace, turn this way!" another yelled.

Clary was so startled by the uproar that she could only peel herself off Jace and was promptly beset by blinding camera bulbs. Her first thought was to retreat and she would have if Jace had not kept her firmly in his grasp while he smiled congenially for the cameras.

"This beautiful young lady is my girlfriend," Jace introduced her and then guided her away from the crowd of photographers. "We'd better head in now. Thanks, guys."

They walked away from the mad whirl. They were still yelling out questions and requests. What was her name? Where did they meet? Could they get another picture? Was it serious? Clary could not believe how complete strangers could possibly be so interested in their relationship. She wondered if she should get them to ask Jace if he loved her. She was entertaining herself with these possibilities when they came face to face with Sebastian and his date, Regina. It appeared Sebastian needed no help from Jace, had already introduced himself and looked very comfortable with Regina giddily looping her arm with his.

"So, Regina, you've met Sebastian," Jace smiled politely at them both. "Glad to see you two getting along."

Regina's mouth fell open a little at the sight of Jace but she recovered quickly and flicked a strand of curls off her face. Her hair was styled in a classic updo with a modern twist that had loose strands strategically and tastefully brushing a very pretty blushing face. And Jace had not been wrong about the red highlights in her hair or her short stature. Clary noticed they must be or very close to the same height when their eyes met and were level with one another.

"I should really be put out with you, Jace," Regina answered in a playfully rebuking tone. "A gentleman does not cancel a date to take another woman out," she shot a slightly disgruntled look at Clary, "but," she turned her face up to Sebastian, "Sebastian is delightful. I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time together."

She fluttered her long lashes at him. Clary then looked up at Sebastian expecting to see his typical arrogant grin but instead he only stared at her, a stunned sort of look on his face, similar to the expression she had seen earlier on Jace's face.

"You look … nice," Sebastian said quietly.

Clary took a long look at Sebastian and smiled lightheartedly. "Well, I can do better than that, Sebby," she laughed and gave him a friendly punch in the arm. "You clean up very well. Magnificent, really."

He really did look good in his black tie accoutrements. Probably the handsomest guy there, second only to her own man. Strangely he looked a little grim so she gave him a supportive pat on the back but the way he tensed at her touch had her promptly removing her hand.

It was weird but she thought it was probably best to leave Sebastian alone especially with Jace watching their little interaction with barely disguised irritation. She wrapped both arms around Jace's waist, pulled her chin up to rest on his chest and stared up at him adoringly. The annoyance on his face dissolved and he put his own hands together, encircling her against him while he gazed down at her. They might have stayed that way for God knows how long but Regina apparently required some attention.

"Jace … you could introduce us," she frowned up at him and then pointedly glanced at Clary, still holding Sebastian's arm who was not looking at any of them and no longer appeared as relaxed as he was when they first encountered each other.

"I'm sorry, Regina," Jace was all effortless charm and swung Clary around as if they were dancing so that she faced Regina but was steadily held up with his hand on her waist. "Please, may I introduce Miss Clarissa Fairchild," he smiled whimsically at her before he finished, "my date and sweetheart."

Regina lifted an eyebrow, clearly amused, "Your sweetheart, is it? Well then, I guess I can hardly object. Clarissa …," she began.

"Clary, please," Clary insisted.

"Clary, then, if I were you, I'd keep him on a short leash. A very short one," Regina giggled and nudged Sebastian. "Come on darling, we'll catch up with the sweethearts later."

"Regina, dear," a dreaded voice rang out. Its aristocratic tones were like a razor's edge to Clary's senses. Jace's grandmother. She had not seen the woman since their last late night conversation and on the whole, she had managed to blissfully pretend that the hateful woman did not exist except as some abstract figure in Jace's life. But now, here she was, lightly clutching Regina's shoulders and exchanging air kisses.

"Madame Herondale!" Regina's own voice rang out and took on a pure blue blooded pitch.

Jace did not move and kept his arm around her but she could tell he was not at ease, certainly not as merry, as he was in the moments before she made her appearance.

"And your date?" Madame Herondale inquired, eyeing Sebastian thoughtfully.

"Sebastian Verlac," he answered smoothly and extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

Clary could also see that while Sebastian cloaked himself in the suave veneer that he naturally hid behind, there was a hardness to his demeanor and a lack of the deliberate charm he would normally ply on any newly met female. It really did not matter how old or young they were. He was like a spider that first captivated any witless female in his path and then would use or discard as he needed. That was a merciless description and Clary was a bit surprised that she still retained such thoughts about Sebastian. Still, she felt some appreciation for Sebastian's defensive attitude with Jace's grandmother, interpreting it as loyalty for her sake. She had told Sebastian some of what Jace's grandmother had said to her when he asked why she had disappeared for a week when it seemed she and Jace had broken up.

And as was his norm, he did not venture an opinion but his mouth turned down, he took her hand and told her, "I'm sorry she hurt you." Then he looked at her strangely and asked, "But you didn't tell Jace?"

Clary looked away. It was hard to meet his eyes then. There was something in the way he looked at her that she could not face. "No, how can I do that? I don't want to hurt him."

"Verlac … is that right?" Madame Herondale seemed to weigh the name in her head. Then her face lit up pleasingly. Clary gawked a little. She had never seen Jace's grandmother appear quite so … enthusiastic.

"Are you related to Gabriel and Madeleine Verlac?" she asked but she already seemed certain by the look on her face.

Sebastian, however, did not looked pleased by this discovery. "Yes, of course," he answered. "They're my parents."

Madame Herondale turned to Jace, her appearance reprimanding, "Jace, dear, you never told me you knew Sebastian, the son of the French ambassador."

"I apologize, grandmother," he replied coolly. "Sebastian never shared that fascinating tidbit with me."

"Well," she said sternly at Jace, then turned back to Sebastian with a positively delighted smile, "sometimes Jace can be inexcusably ignorant but I'm so pleased you two are such good friends you could accommodate his deficiencies."

So, now she was a … deficiency. Nice. But, perhaps a step up from the garbage that Jace's grandmother had expected him to dump.

"Actually," Sebastian's onyx eyes stayed fixed on Madame Herondale, "I'm here for Clary," and then he seemed to recollect himself. A smile, a predatory smile that remarkably most girls ate up, emerged on his face, "and of course, Regina. I very much wanted to meet Regina after Jace described her."

Regina, who did look a bit miffed when he first mentioned Clary was now hooked. Clary smirked a little but also felt a bit sorry for her. He would only need to reel her in and they had only just met.

Jace's grandmother narrowed her eyes but did not appear perturbed, merely … calculating.

"I see," she said and now finally graced Clary with her scrutiny. "My dear, it's been so long since we last met. You shouldn't make such a stranger of yourself. Although, you've certainly been very busy. So very resourceful and so many young men ready to jump to your call. We must catch up later. You can tell me your secret."

Clary could not think of anything less appealing, even Aunt Hodge's meatloaf or Jonathan's dirty, sweaty laundry.

"No," she answered involuntarily, "I don't think so."

She could feel Jace look down at her questioningly but she could not meet his eyes. She was already locked in his grandmother's cold and uncompromising glare.

"Well," his grandmother said with a thin smile. "We'd better get in now. I'm sure there will be opportunities to speak later."

* * *

It was an exciting night. She was glad she came. The evening was almost over. Honestly, she was beginning to wonder if rich people ever slept. She thought it was almost 2 in the morning and there were still plenty of people drinking and laughing and dancing in the makeshift ball room, a large open space in the Museum with priceless paintings hung high above. A clear crystal dome over their heads was uncovered for the event and everything was awash with the light of a full moon along with perfectly placed ambient lighting that only complimented the moonlight and added to the dreamy glow that surrounded the revel. She was feeling the dizzying effects of a few glasses of champagne. No one seemed to care that there were underage partygoers. Apparently if you were rich, you didn't sleep and you were ageless. She would have left long ago but after having dinner and attending a tour of the new wing, Madame Herondale commandeered Jace and insisted that he join her while she hobnobbed with her important associates. They had managed to dance twice before he was spirited away and that alone had made the night worth it. It was quite enchanting to twirl around in his arms within the grand marble halls flanked by dazzling artwork.

And once he left, she had sat at their table good naturedly, just observing and appreciating the beauty all around her. There had been invitations to dance from other unknown partygoers but she declined not knowing when Jace might return. And after an hour left to herself, she decided to partake of some champagne goodness and what started out as a sip or two couldn't hurt, turned into three empty champagne flutes. Well, she thought it was three. She wasn't entirely sure since the waiters kept the tables and stands prodigiously clean and as soon as she left a glass empty it was promptly carried away. She was pretty sure it was three. She distinctly remembered three.

A bubbly feeling lifted her spirits and carried her up and onto the dance floor, moving to the music and swaying happily by herself, when she felt a pair of arms, nice, strong arms, take her hand and pull in her waist and she was whisked around the room, alternatively giggling and resting her head against a nice, strong shoulder.

"Enjoying yourself?" Sebastian asked her.

"Oh, Sebastian, it's you!" Clary declared with a laugh. "So happy to see you," she continued and hugged him tightly. "I was dreadfully bored," but she said this with a laugh as well.

In fact, everything was so uproariously funny and she fought to contain her giggles.

"You so owe me," Sebastian muttered dryly but when she looked up at him, to laugh of course, he had a wide grin on his face.

"Wait a minute," Clary remembered, "Where's Regina? Shouldn't you be dancing with her under the glorious moonlight?"

She stretched out her arms and was grateful Sebastian read her well enough to know to spin them around while she pulled her head back to gaze at the night sky.

"Oh, she left," he answered and brought her back into his arms and continued the left to right fluid motion of their bodies.

Clary made an exaggerated sad face, pulling her lower lip out and pouting down. "Don't tell me she ditched you. C'est impossible!"

Sebastian shook his head and smiled at her. "No, of course not. We're even planning another date. I'm supposed to call her." He lifted his hand to reveal a flowery handwritten phone number on his palm.

Clary laughed approvingly and placed both arms around his waist, leaned her head onto his chest and gave him what she thought was a bear hug. He wrapped one arm around her and the other hand went gently under her chin and raised it so that her face was upturned to meet his when he lowered his face to press the lightest and sweetest kiss on her lips. He pulled away slowly and watched her very cautiously, still holding her firmly against him.

"Mmmm," she moaned and her eyes opened drowsily, "that was nice. What was that for? Why aren't we dancing?"

She released her hold on Sebastian and was about to dart into an opening in the middle of the dance floor when her gaiety quickly dried up at the sight of Jace's grandmother. She stood just a few feet away, a very satisfied smile on her face.

"Now, darling, I think it's time we had that talk," Madame Herondale took one of Clary's arms and tugged her off the dance floor.

"Wait a minute," Sebastian called out and extended an arm out to stop her.

"I wouldn't do that, dear," Madame Herondale twisted her head back to face him. "I can be an excellent ally … or your worst enemy. We wouldn't want this wonderful evening to end in blows, do we? I can guarantee a few words from me and I doubt anyone could hold my grandson back."

Sebastian stood frozen and seemed utterly astounded at her words.

"What are you talking about?" Clary asked irate. She tried to shake the old lady off but she held onto Clary's arm as if her hand was an iron claw. She was inhuman and Clary was actually too woozy to do much resisting other than slow down the old lady's procession with an awkward shuffling of her feet. But eventually she got Clary out of the domed hall and they were in a dark and quiet wing of the museum that echoed loudly with their footsteps.

"That's far enough," Madame Herondale commanded and freed Clary from her grip. "I've underestimated you," she said in a conceding tone. "He actually seems to care for you."

She looked piercingly at Clary as if trying to solve a confounding mystery. "And now you have this other one strung along. I certainly can't see the great attraction but then, I'm not a man."

She sighed as if she were carrying a heavy weight.

"You never told him, did you?" She gave Clary a curious look.

Clary only watched Jace's grandmother with an icy reserve. There was no way the witch would suck her back into an emotional black hole again.

"I wonder why you didn't tell him," Madame Herondale pondered. "Well, it makes no difference, really," she shook her head as if she was tasked with a terrible duty. "You know very well that my grandson has an extremely lofty position in society, a serious role to fill, and that includes finding the right sort of girl to be his partner."

She looked remorsefully at Clary. "It pains me to say this but I think we both know you are not a suitable companion for him, dear."

Despite the dizzying way the room spun around her a burning fury rose up in her. She had to remind herself that this wretched old lady was Jace's family, his only family, the person who raised him and someone who was an integral part of his life. After taking several deep, gulping breaths she was able to think rationally and believed she could also speak respectfully.

"I don't know what I am to Jace but I do know I will always be there for him as long as he wants me. I … love him … and I'm pretty sure I always will." It was strangely liberating to say these words to his grandmother, almost as if she were saying them to him.

But Jace's grandmother seemed to feel these words as if they were a personal assault and she cringed angrily.

"You will stay away from him. Do you understand me? I can make your life quite miserable if you defy me," she said fiercely to Clary and seemed to grow bigger as she pulsed with rage.

And before Clary could say another word, Jace stepped out of the shadows, his golden eyes darkened to a deep amber, opened wide and unwaveringly fixed on Clary.

"Did you just say … you love me?" he asked very slowly.

Clary knew this was not how she wanted to tell him and it made her even more boiling mad at his grandmother. But, at least it was out now … although, judging from the less than enthused way he stared at her, in fact, he looked … pained, she was beginning to think … he had not been ready to hear this.

"Yes, that's what I said … and I meant it. I love you. I'm crazy in love with you." She summoned the courage to see this through. She couldn't take it back now even if she wanted to and … she didn't want to, she wanted him to know.

She stopped speaking then and watched Jace's face. There were so many different emotions swirling on his beautiful, beloved face that she could not catch them all. Finally, it seemed to settle on a sort of hopeless grief and it stabbed at her heart with a shattering pain.

"Clary," Jace spoke quietly. "I can't …."

She took a deep breath and welcomed a terrible emptiness into her soul. That was better. Better than the sweeping agony that threatened to leave her a heap on the floor.

"Alright, Jace. I suppose I should have listened to your grandmother. I'll go now," she spoke evenly.

She had to leave. She could not stay here any longer and turned away quickly. She did not spare a glance for his grandmother but couldn't help catching her proudly vindicated pose. She seemed to radiate with victory. Well, good for her. At least someone could be happy.

"No, wait," he pleaded with her and she could hear desperation in his voice but she didn't understand. Why? What was there to wait for? More disappointment? More heartache?

"Please, Clary," he continued. "We can still be together … I still … I need you. Please, don't … go," he said haltingly and if she didn't know better, he was tearing apart.

"No," that was all she could say. In a way she wished she could pretend she hadn't just told him she loved him and he hadn't told her he couldn't, but no, she might be able to fool herself for a few seconds but a minute later it would torment her. And if he held her, then … it would hurt even more.

"Please, you don't understand," he was walking toward her, his hands out for her, but she swiftly moved back.

"Don't," she demanded.

Jace stopped and started breathing heavily. "Please, I need to explain. You have to understand. Please, I'll do anything you want but just hear me out."

Clary nodded slowly. She could do that. She could hear what he had to say but, "Your grandmother. I don't want her here."

Jace looked startled, as if he had completely forgotten her presence, and turned his head to her abruptly, "Get out."

There was a sharp bitterness in the way he spoke that dismayed the old lady, her mouth opening, presumably to object to this treatment, but then she met his eyes and stared into them long and hard. She must have seen something in them that persuaded her to go, since she finally dropped her gaze, turned and left without another word.

They both stood there listening to the fading click clack of his grandmother's heels.

"Clary," Jace's voice had returned to a soft pleading, "if … if I could … I would. My … grandmother, since I was very little, she told me … love destroys and I didn't believe her … at first."

Jace pulled his head up and shut his eyes tight. "Can we … can we just sit down?" he asked.

She walked over to a bench positioned in front of a large abstract painting of a tower in flames. She waited for him to sit before she took a seat at the other end and studied the painting. It was too dark to see much of the details, but it seemed fitting for this moment.

She could feel his eyes on her but she refused to meet them. Still, she could see enough to see him cave over, his face in his hands.

Jace started speaking again, his voice rough, "She told me my parents … they loved each other, so much, and it destroyed them. My father, he abandoned his family duties … to be with her and then he paid … with his life. And it killed her. My mother, she got sick … she couldn't live without him. And then … my grandfather. I … I loved him and I … I finally told him but then he left and … he died."

"So, you see, it's a curse," his voice was trembling now and his body shook, "I can't … and if I … I don't want to … I can't … lose … you."

Clary turned to face him then. She was very sad and he looked like a pitiful, lost little boy. "So, then what do you feel for me? If it's not … then what is it? How would you describe it? I need to know."

"Come home with me," his voice was very weak. "Why do we have to … label things? Why do we have to … can't you just feel how much I want you, need you?"

Clary could feel a crack forming in the armor that kept her together.

"I heard you," he lifted his face and there was hope in his voice now. "You said you would always be there for me. You can't leave."

"I want to go home now, Jace. To my home," she said. "And you're right. I will always be there for you. I just need some time now. Alone. We'll talk again … in a few days. If you still want me, I won't abandon you. I'll never abandon you but we … we can't be the same. It can't be the same, anymore."

Jace sat up. She loved him enough to be glad that her words seemed to restore some part of him.

"How?" he asked her. "How will it be? How will we be?"

"I'll have to stop," she answered. "I'll have to learn to stop loving you."


	14. Chapter 14 Best Part of Breaking Up

Six days had passed since Jace told her he couldn't love her and she received a text from him that morning.

 _Six days is stretching it. Once you've reached seven, that's a week. Not a few days. When will we talk?_

She had not retreated into a tears drenched catatonic state. That was good. She spent every waking minute keeping busy. Going to the gym, taking long jogs, catching up with her friends. She had really missed Izzy and Simon. They had reached a stage in their coupledom where they seemed conjoined and Clary knew she had been the same … with Jace, so of course she hadn't minded and things had gotten a little awkward after she befriended Sebastian, anyway. Simon was surprised because he had only ever heard both Izzy and Clary declare him slime but Izzy had been … not hurt … more baffled by it. It was obvious she felt nothing for Sebastian now but he had the unforgiven mark that came with the distinction of being the only boy to ever break up with Izzy and not the other way around. Still, it had been easier dealing with Izzy's disapproval than Jace's and now after almost three months of getting used to the idea of their friendship, it was not unusual to find them all together.

Just the other day the four of them had spent the entire day at the beach and it had been fun. It seemed strange that she could have fun, that she could laugh despite the general numbness that covered her heart and stretched over her soul. Jace was never far from her thoughts. She knew he would always be a part of her and she knew she could never truly stop loving him but maybe she could learn to love him … the right way. In a way that could see him lead a long, happy life separate from her, to be able to hope one day he could find love with someone else and could be glad for him.

The others had asked about Jace. Izzy, Simon, Jonathan and Aunt Hodge all found it remarkable that the two of them stopped spending every possible moment together and asked if something happened. Were they okay? Clary told them Jace was busy preparing to leave for College. She would see him again. They would have to get used to seeing less of each other anyway. It was a sensible answer and she believed she said it convincingly but everyone responded with varying levels of consternation and disbelief but seeing as how she was still functioning, not locked away in her room crying her eyes out, no one questioned her further. No one knew a thing … except Sebastian. He did not ask if everything was okay with Jace. He had seen enough when they returned back to the party at the Museum to know better. They had come back, an unusual distance between them, so that Clary could get her clutch and wrap. She noticed Sebastian was still there, watching her with a worried expression, so she walked over to him and explained Jace was taking her home now.

Sebastian took her by the shoulders and would not let her move away until she met his eyes and then asked her, "Do you want me to take you home, instead?"

She knew her eyes were dry. She knew there should be nothing on her face that would reveal what happened, that her life just ended, but she nodded and let Sebastian take her hand. He hesitated a little when she moved towards Jace but he didn't question her and walked with her, his hand still warm and supportive over her own.

"Sebastian is taking me home. You shouldn't leave before your grandmother, anyway," she told him.

She faced him but she would not look at him. She did not want to see him anymore and be reminded of what she could not have. She could feel something in Jace break but he said nothing and physically he seemed unchanged but then … maybe she imagined it. She supposed she had imagined a great deal during their time together. She had wanted him to love her so badly and really believed that he did when they looked into each other's eyes, when they kissed, when they held each other, when their bodies were joined. But she could not fool herself anymore. That was over now. He stayed silent so she just turned and walked away with Sebastian.

They didn't say a word during the drive home. It wasn't until they got to her house and he turned off the engine that she found her voice. "I told him."

Sebastian just looked straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

"It didn't go well," she continued and burst into tears.

She had no idea how long she sat there, shaking under a deluge of tears. Everything that had been held back at the museum now came out, all of her broken hopes. She had never fully realized how much Jace meant to her. It was stupid. Ludicrous, really. After all, she had always known she was completely in love with him, probably from the first moment she laid eyes on him. He was everything to her but she knew if she just went along as Jace suggested, as if nothing had changed, but all the while knowing he couldn't love her … it would destroy her … even worse than what she felt now. She would never survive that but she was truly sorry she couldn't do it … since he seemed … hurt. She didn't want to hurt him. She never wanted to hurt him. She had told herself over and over … this perfect dream could not last … but somehow she had still let herself believe he did love her. How could he look at her the way he did? How could he make her feel the way he did if he didn't love her? And that secret unexamined part of her that had truly believed in this love also envisioned an entire future together, an eternity together and now …

She didn't know if she spoke any of these thoughts aloud or if it was just a tormenting mass in her own head that tore at her heart and shredded it to pieces but finally she realized she was not alone and it … helped. Her hands were braced around herself but there was another set of arms that also kept her from falling completely apart. They felt warm and strong and she was so, so cold.

"Oh God," she croaked out pulling back and attempting to wipe off the large stain of tears on his tuxedo jacket. "I got your shirt wet too!" she exclaimed. Could she make this disastrous night even worse?

"Stop, Clary," Sebastian said in a hushed voice.

"I'll go get a towel. Leave the jacket, I'll get it cleaned." She reached for the door but he pulled her back.

"You're shivering. The jacket, the shirt, none of that matters. I promise you," he pressed her tight against him and rocked back and forth soothingly. "Just let me hold you … until you stop shaking." Then he kissed her forehead and she let herself sink into his arms.

"Thank you, Sebastian," she finally managed to say without sobbing. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You've been such a good friend."

She raised her head and pushed up from his chest to kiss his cheek but he turned his head and her kiss landed on his lips instead. It was still a friendly kiss, very soft and gentle and it did not feel strange when she pulled away. They stared at each other then and she wondered how she could see so many sparkling colors in his black eyes in the pitch darkness that she had never noticed before in the full light of day.

"Well, I'm going in now," she said and squeezed his hand.

"Clary," Sebastian held onto her hand.

She turned back questioningly.

"Jace … is a fool," he murmured then let her hand go. "I'll see you … tomorrow?"

Clary watched him. She wanted to defend Jace but … what's the point? And … she wanted Sebastian … around. He made her feel better. "Yes, please come see me."

And so, Sebastian had been there for her and sometimes they said almost nothing but he would jog with her or sit patiently for his portrait or he would help with the yard work that she had industriously decided to tackle or go visit Simon and Izzy. It felt like forever but after three days, she could feel a smile forming on her face again when Simon reenacted his friend, Eric's, poetry reading that he and Izzy had attended at the local coffee shop, or when Izzy collapsed dramatically on the ground feigning convulsions after an intense two hour work out session with back to back HIIT and core strength classes, or when Sebastian chased her around the backyard after discovering her ticklish spot between her ribs. Well, that had admittedly brought out high pitched squeals of laughter, but the point was she was beginning to feel human again as if the invisible wall between her and the rest of the world may not be permanent.

And then that text … and she didn't know if she could do it. She had promised Jace they would talk again … if he still wanted her … and she supposed this meant he did … but … what would it do to her? He only had another week here before he was set to leave. Maybe … it could work? Maybe she could see him and they could say their goodbyes and then after a few months they could be … friends. The pounding ache in her heart told her she was crazy to consider it but … she missed him. She missed him so much. They hadn't been apart for a day before … and yes, she really, really missed his body and the earth shaking way her body reacted to his but there was so much more. The sound of his voice, the way he smelled, the way he laughed, the way his golden eyes glowed and … everything. Everything about him made her heart swell and race … she adored him. So what would happen if she saw him again? Could any good come of it? She would fall into a hopeless depression. Knowing how much she loved him and how that love kept fooling her into believing he loved her too and then the constant torturous replay in her head when he looked at her, completely wrecked, and told her, "I can't."

"Why?" she whispered. "Why … can't … you … just … leave … me … alone?" She stared down at the phone. "You don't love me. Why do you want me? Do you enjoy torturing me?"

"Clary." An uncontrollable thrill shot through her body at the sound.

She slowly turned her head to face him and had to clamp down hard on the overwhelming urge to rush at him and throw herself on him.

"Your aunt let me in," Jace explained and Clary thought she recognized the ravenous way his eyes ran over her. She felt her own eyes work the same way, up and down every line of his body, remembering the way each of those lines felt up against her, no clothing and no barriers between them. When her eyes settled on his face she sucked in her breath, alarmed. He looked … exhausted. He was beautiful. That would never change but there were deep, dark hallows beneath his eyes and she realized he must have lost weight the way the chiseled plains of his cheek and jawbones stood out sharper than she had ever seen them before. Another quick assessment over his body confirmed the clothes were looser than they should be.

"What happened, Jace?" she stood up, worried now. "Is your … grandmother alright? Alex? Are you okay?"

Jace lifted an eyebrow and leaned back against the doorway as if he needed the support.

"You're kidding, right?" he said so quietly she strained to hear him. "I told you. I need you and you don't want me anymore. How am I supposed to be okay?"

Clary walked over to him. She wasn't sure what she was doing but she couldn't see him like this. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room then shut and locked the door.

"Come, lie down, Jace. Just lie down and … sleep." Clary could tell he probably had not slept in a while.

He was completely helpless and it took only the barest of nudges to get him onto the bed, sprawled out and lying with his back against her, her arms holding him around his chest. He turned to wrap his arms around her waist and closed his eyes, his face against her stomach.

"I can't live without you, Clary. Please don't do this," he whispered before he fell asleep.

Watching him sleep, holding him and having his arms around her … was intensely satisfying and it felt like a hole that had been carved out of her heart had filled up again. But what did it all mean? He couldn't live without her? What the hell was that?

He loves you, idiot. The answer came swift and harsh and a sudden wave of joy crashed over her until it just as quickly receded. But he doesn't want to. So … he can't help himself, but if he could he'd stop. If he could, he would end this love. Yes, that was the truth, wasn't it? He had been majorly fucked over by his psychotic grandmother and somehow against all odds and as impossible as it should have been, he loved her but refused to acknowledge it and certainly didn't want to, but he would kill himself wanting her as long as she kept away from him. She heard her phone buzzing and a ping rang out to tell her she received a new text. She figured it was probably Izzy, Simon … or Sebastian. Sebastian. Curiously, her heart skipped a beat at the thought and she stretched out to retrieve her phone without disturbing Jace. He slept soundly but snaked his arms even tighter around her when she must have jostled him slightly, reaching for the phone. There, she got it, but she found Jace's arms around her waist, his head heavy against her abdomen, rather a little too constricting. It was strange since she had never felt anything other than perfectly happy lying with Jace before.

She had one hand on Jace's head, her fingers lightly pulling through his golden curls and the other hand on her phone. Looking down at him, watching him as he slept, she couldn't remember why she had wanted the phone in the first place. She loved him so much and he was here. She bent down to kiss his lips. The feel of the silky, soft skin on his naturally rose tinged lips was perfect as always against her own and she unconsciously pressed deeper into him. It felt like she had been starving for him and now that he was here and so close she would readily gorge on him.

There was a split second when a warning rang through her head that she should stop, that this would only hurt her later but her body wanted him so badly and then he was responding. His hands pulled her down to fit his body into the perfectly matched swells and valleys between them and soon she couldn't think straight anymore. All she could do was feel. Feel how incredible his smooth skin and the hard muscles beneath that skin felt against her. Their hands were frantically moving all over the other's body, gripping the flesh hard. There would probably be bruises later but there was a crazy, almost violent, need to take each other that could not be restrained. She wasn't sure how their clothing came off but it looked like they exploded off them, strewn everywhere. She barely managed to survey the damage with her hands attached to his amazingly sweet bare ass, her body entirely charged up with reckless desire eagerly waiting for him to enter and fully connect them. Her eyes rolled up, the upper half of her body stretched up against his heavily breathing chest, her legs opened wide and inviting while he held his body over hers and penetrated with only the tip inside her.

"Clary, what's going on in there?" A knock and the sound of Jonathan's voice almost had her scream out but Jace covered her mouth with his hand so only a muffled gasp came out.

Their eyes met and jointly shared the horror of their current circumstance along with a burning feral need to continue mating. He slipped another inch in and another garbled moan escaped her lips.

"Aunt Hodge said Jace came up here. Is he still in there?" Jonathan was beginning to sound agitated.

Jace's eyes were wide and round, the black centers just tiny pinpricks in the swirling gold and she could tell he was struggling to dismount. She nipped at his hand still over her mouth. He moved it off, his face falling into her neck, but that effort had him push another inch in and they were both panting heavily.

"What … is it … Jonathan?" She called out shakily.

"Are you okay?" he answered sternly.

"Yes," another inch went in and now she was clawing furiously at Jace's back. She had no idea if she was trying to draw him fully in or push him off.

Her legs scrambled around him and pinioned around his waist. OK, she was definitely not trying to push him off. God, she needed him. But, this was probably just about the worst scenario they could find themselves in.

"Fine, but Sebastian is waiting for you downstairs. He said you two have a DATE!" Jonathan made a loud banging sound. She vaguely wondered if it was with his fist or his head and then, thank the angels in heaven, she heard him stomp away.

But now when her eyes turned back to Jace … he looked … extremely upset, absolutely livid. Then, he dived into her. She could barely see the gold in his eyes now. The pupils had enlarged to such an extent that they were only rimmed by a band of gold and he was plunging into her with a wild abandon.

"You're mine. Do you hear me? You belong to me," he seethed into her ear.

"Stop it," she hissed at the same time their hips met and smashed into each other.

For once she did not find it an intoxicating turn on when he claimed possession over her but she was coming … hard … and it was pretty much impossible to do anything other than fasten her throbbing body onto his as he pumped ferociously inside her.

* * *

They lay back gasping, gulping down deep breaths. Her mind was still completely fried but her body felt very warm and quite content. She rolled over, on top of Jace, and mindlessly started kissing his taut body, her fingers playing over his firm abdominal muscles when suddenly she remembered and stopped. She immediately rolled off and was about to get up when his arm reached out and pulled her back down.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his unyielding arms wrapping around her.

"I have to wash up. Sebastian is waiting for me, remember?" she answered with no inflection in her voice.

She knew it would hurt him and then she realized she wanted to hurt him. Oh my God, I'm turning into a terrible, monstrous bitch. She shook under the weight of this revelation.

"I'm sorry, Jace. I didn't mean to say it like that," she was sorry. "We are not dating. My brother is just being stupid. He is only a friend. We've been hanging out and we were supposed to go for a jog. Please let me go."

She did not look up at him but she felt him freeze and harden at her initial words. And now, what did she feel? Could she even trust it? It was really confusing.

"Clary, please stop this," he said quietly. "You know I need you. We just made love. We have to be together. We need to be together."

And then the anger surged up again. Maybe it was just because her body was temporarily satiated because she didn't think she would have been able to talk this way to him when she was still so strung up with longing for his touch. "You mean we just fucked. You would have to love me to make love to me."

He sat up abruptly and pulled her up with him so that they faced each other.

"Why would you say that?" his eyes blazed at her.

Yup, mission accomplished. He was mad. Almost as mad as she was, but not quite. "Because, it's true isn't it? You don't love me. You just came here to fuck me and it wasn't very hard, was it? I guess I'm just an easy lay. Now get out."

"Motherfucker," Jace spit out. His hands gripped her shoulders so tight she wondered if he planned to break her in half.

"Add grand to the front of that and you've got it right," she responded venomously.

The look on Jace's face was hard to read but she felt something … strange … emanating from him and then he burst out laughing.

"You're really going to make me say it. Aren't you?" he said between heaving laughter.

"Let go of me." She was furious now. How dare he laugh at her!

"I love you, Goddamn it. You know it's true. I love you and I'll die without you," he pleaded with her and shook her so hard her teeth rattled.

"But you don't want to!" she yelled at him. "If you could stop, you would! Tell me that's not true!"

His face grew sad and tender and immediately cooled the rage in her heart. She wanted to fight it but she could not stop loving him no matter how much she wanted to.

"Don't you understand?" he asked in a soft, heartbroken voice. "My family is cursed. Our love destroys and so help me God if you die now I'll never forgive you."

The way he looked at her then told her everything she ever wanted to believe … but …, "So, it's not because I'm not the right girl for you? I'm not good enough?"

Jace's eyes opened wide, his mouth dropped open. "Are you insane?" his voice rose. "You're the only girl who exists for me. There could never be … anyone else for me."

Oh no. Here come the waterworks. She could feel the weight of tears welling up in her eyes and then streaming down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" he gathered her into his arms. Her face turned up to stare up at him while he hovered over her kissing the tears off her face.

And then there were tears dropping from his beautiful eyes so she removed them with her own kisses. They sat there, in each other's arms, their faces only inches apart as first one, then the other, kissed the tears off the other's face.

And then a knock. "Clary? You in there? I thought we were going for a jog?" another male voice. Sebastian!

Clary froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the flood of transcendent happiness she was swimming in, knowing that Jace loved her, and then the absurdity of the repeated ill-timed interruptions by the worst possible people imaginable.

"Oh my God, I'm so –," Clary called out.

"She's busy!" Jace bellowed.

"Jace!" she mouthed without any volume to her words. "My brother!"

"I don't care. It's worth any beating to let that asshole know you're mine and to back off," he said in an escalating and steely voice that would brook no argument.

Her eyes flared at him but she reached over and gave him a soft but passionate kiss that had her melting inside and definitely had his rigid pose crumbling.

She was very proud of herself when she kept her head and broke the kiss whispering to him, "Get dressed. Please! We'll go to the house."

He looked a bit dazed but mollified and nodded agreeably.

She giggled a little at the effect she was beginning to appreciate she had over him and ruffled the messy golden curls on top of his head.

"You're a good boy," she said in a low voice.

He grabbed her and pulled her to him. "So are you going to reward me?" he asked.

Her skin tingled at his touch and the heated sound of his voice.

"Yes," she whispered letting her lips glide along his earlobe, "but after we get out of here." Then pushed him away with a smile.

OK, action time. She raced around the room picking up clothes, throwing the boy clothes at Jace and rolled her own into a ball to put into the hamper. Now onto the dresser, pull out some fresh clothes, get dressed and, voila, ready to face the world. She turned to see how far along Jace had gotten and he stood pretty much exactly where she left him, his clothing all over and around him. At least he managed to get his boxers on but otherwise he seemed to have just been standing there and watching her.

"Jace!" she mouthed again. "Get dressed."

She rolled her eyes at which he gave her a lopsided grin and informed her, "You're perfect, even when your hustling ass. I could watch you forever."

She answered with a big smile, a kiss thrown into the air, and then a scolding expression with a mime of someone putting on his pants.

Then to the door, deep breath. She opened it just wide enough to squeeze out without allowing any view of the interior or Jace. She had semi prepared herself to apologize / grovel to Sebastian but the sight of two pairs of large male feet and then the long legs attached to those feet and then an almost identical pose with arms crossed and bodies set like stone had her thoughts scattered. Her mind went blank when she finally lifted her eyes to face two sets of eyes. One all hard, glittering emeralds and the other, a shining pair of black onyxes that brought a startled gasp to her lips.


	15. Chapter 15 Freak Out

He looked … so outraged and so … hurt. She almost forgot Jonathan was there but of course Jonathan wouldn't let that happen.

"Clary, what are you doing?" his voice was low and unwavering but Clary could tell he was on the verge of blowing up by the way his brows knit together, he didn't blink and his nostrils were flaring. Quite honestly, he looked like a bull about to charge.

"Just calm down, Jonathan," Clary spoke soothingly. "Now listen," her eyes stayed fixed on Jonathan even though she could feel Sebastian's stare. She wasn't sure how to react to the emotions she saw on his face. If she read them right, they were too close to the torment that had recently waged war in her own heart.

"Jace is here," she would try the direct and logical approach. She sort of wished she had Jace beside her at this moment, his hand comfortingly over hers, but she knew that would definitely not help her brother's mood. "You know we've been together for almost a year now so it's really not a big deal for us to be in my room together." She tried to smile pleasantly but she was pretty sure it came out a distorted half smile half grimace that probably made her look as nauseous as she was beginning to feel.

Jonathan's green eyes were as hard as she had ever seen them. They moved away from her and stared at the door. His eyes narrowed and the muscles in his shoulders tensed.

She quickly put her hands out and laid them against his chest. "Now stop that! You are not laying a finger on Jace. Speak to me! Please," she begged fully aware that the look on Jonathan's face and the way his body tensed like a coiled spring could only spell trouble.

He shut his eyes tight together and then reopened them to glare down at her. "While you're under eighteen and in this house, you will not be alone with a boyfriend in a locked room. Are we clear?"

She nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course, you're right. We're leaving now. I promise it won't happen again."

She watched Jonathan hoping against hope he would now move along but he kept glaring at the door and didn't budge.

"So … um … what are you waiting for?" she ventured in a very cautious voice.

"I think you know," Jonathan answered just as the door opened and Jace stood in front of them.

Clary immediately jumped in front of him only to have Jace shift to the side so of course she moved to cover him and then he proceeded to swing to the other side. They continued this dance for a good minute before she twirled around to face him, hands on hips, to fix her own steely glare at Jace. But he seemed almost completely oblivious to her, watching Jonathan and Sebastian. Still, she could tell the slight twitch in his eye was his reaction to her immediate presence and as much as it frustrated her to no end, the way he refused to be shielded by her, she could not help loving the way he insisted on defending her and how he was always aware of her.

"Jesus," Jonathan cut in. "You two deserve each other," he said bitingly but Clary could tell he was no longer furious.

He threw his hands up and walked away, finally retreating to his own room.

Clary wished Jace would also walk away now but she knew that was likely impossible. It would be so much easier to have this conversation with Sebastian alone.

"So," Sebastian began. "You two have … patched things up?" His voice was calm but Clary detected a coldness in it that she had never heard before when he spoke to her.

"Sebastian," she started, completely lost for words but desperately wanting to assure him and … keep him. She realized she didn't want to lose his friendship. He was important to her. There was a special place in her heart just for him and the truth of it was both frightening and enlightening. Sometimes it felt like he knew what she was feeling without having to say it. She hoped this was one of those occasions. She knew Jace stood just a foot away but she still grabbed his hand and held it fervently.

"Please understand." She finally met his eyes and it was painful to look into them but she knew it was the least she could do; accept responsibility for the hurt staring back at her.

"I do," he answered quietly. He then pulled his hand out of hers but the look he gave her did not blame her. He was wounded. There was no mistaking that but there was also a sort of forgiveness in his eyes that she did not understand.

"Don't worry, Clary. I'll wait for you," he said and looked so deeply in her eyes that she almost felt naked in front of him. "You've taken him back," he said. There was no question in his voice and as usual, there was no judgment in it either.

"There was nothing to take back. I never left," Jace said definitively. "And … I never will."

Sebastian sucked in a breath as if this statement was a physical blow. She watched him with wide eyes, willing him to understand. Don't leave me, she pleaded in her head but she knew there was only one person she couldn't truly live without and that person was not Sebastian. He didn't turn away as she half expected. No, he peered down at her as if he could read her thoughts and after an endless moment he looked away but he didn't turn from her and that filled her with an indefinable relief.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said without looking at her. "I guess I'll see you in a week." Then he pivoted around and walked away without another glance.

She stood there, wringing her hands, questioning herself, wondering if she did the right thing. Maybe she should have cut the strings between them. It would not have taken much. They felt threadbare as it was but … but … she cared for him. He saved her … or at least he saved her from a world of pain she had not had to endure since he was there and distracted her from the perceived loss. Was she making a mistake? She had no idea. She only knew that while Jace had most of her heart, the remainder of it was split between her family and friends and now … Sebastian. It would bleed to lose Sebastian now. But … but … above all ... she had to have Jace. It took less than a second to come to this conclusion and she swiveled around to face him.

When she peered up at him, she saw the constant love and need for her in his eyes. She leaped back into his arms and buried herself in his embrace.

"I … I'm not going to Harvard. I'm staying," Jace said unevenly, holding her tightly.

She managed to shake her head, "No, you can't do that. You want to go. I know you do. Don't. Not for me. I'll wait for you. I promise," she murmured even though a great big part of her rejoiced at his words. If he stayed! If he stayed she would never have to miss him … and there was no question she would miss him. She couldn't go a day without missing him … so badly. She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure what she would do if he wasn't there. No, that wasn't true. She knew exactly what she would do. She would try to find something, someone else to … temporarily replace … the rapacious need. That was how Sebastian had gotten a hold of some portion of her heart. A fraction of what Jace was to her but still … it was not … right. She felt a certainty in her soul that the need she had for Sebastian was not … natural. But how? How could she explain this to Jace? He would never understand. He was all ready to pounce on Sebastian as it was. It would not take much to get him completely fired up, in complete attack mode and that was definitely not what she wanted. She also knew she did not want to take away any dreams or ambitions or promises from Jace. He was amazing and he could be something amazingly great for everyone, not just for her. She couldn't take away that promise. His absence would be excruciating but … he had to go, fulfil his destiny … even if that destiny took him away from her.

"I want you," she said in a voice that kept cracking. "I don't ever want you away from me … but I won't take it from you. I … can't. You … are … so … incredible and it would be so selfish and so wrong if I tried to hold you for myself. I know that." She could feel tears threatening so she spoke quickly. "You cannot stay. Not for me. I'm yours. For as long as you want me. I'll never give you up unless you tell me … you don't want me," her voice quivered.

The idea of hearing those words from him filled her with a terror she could not face. She could never face it … alone. And then she knew. She knew with a terrible knowledge that could not be denied. She was using Sebastian. Yes, she liked him, maybe even loved him a little but it was all for a self-serving purpose. Because she knew … if she ever lost Jace … she would need someone else and Sebastian … was that perfect someone else. Someone who understood her, took care of her, someone … who she could be with … who she was attracted to … who could help her to … forget? No, not forget, but keep her distracted …

Jace was watching her. She had to get her head together. She blinked a few times to clear her head. She couldn't fully examine these thoughts or figure out where they led. Not now. Now, she had to focus on Jace and what was best for him.

"We should get out of here," she looked up at him and tried to smile. "We really shouldn't be too close to my brother right now."

"You know that will never happen, don't you?" he answered. He held her in his wonderfully strong arms. She felt so protected and so safe in them. "I'll never not want you … I don't even know how I'll manage … without seeing you, holding you every day. I want to stay … for me."

"Oh, Jace," she buried her face into his chest. "Let's go to our house. You have to eat something and then we'll make love over and over and over again," she whispered but she knew he heard her. His body went hard. She could feel desire whipping through it.

"Come on," she pulled him away from her room and tugged at his hand.

She stifled a shriek when he swung her up, lifted her over his shoulder and paced swiftly down the stairs and out of the house.

* * *

It was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Even harder than when she thought they were through, when he told her he couldn't love her or when his grandmother suggested she was the wrong girl for him. Pretending everything would be fine, watching him walk away and out of her life. She was overdramatizing. Yes, she definitely shared this trait with Jonathan. She would see him in two weeks. Maybe even sooner! They would not be apart for long but still … watching him leave, moving further and further into the airport, to travel hundreds of miles away from her arms … that was … rough.

She had not wanted anyone else to accompany them. His grandmother had flown out to their NY residence ahead of Jace and would meet him when he arrived on the East coast. She was grateful that at least she did not have to share their farewells with his grandmother watching. So, she had come alone with Jace, and to the very last moment he offered to stay. It was so hard to tell what was for her and what was for him but she felt sure even if he truly believed he wanted to stay, he would ultimately regret his lost opportunities.

He did not repeat the words that spilled out that day he came to get her at her home. She now knew that was precisely what he had done. He had come for her and he knew the only way to do this was to say the words he was so frightened of … but he had not really overcome that fear and he steadfastly believed that to continue saying he loved her would stack the deck against them and doom them to some horrible tragedy. He would not repeat them and he didn't want to hear her say it either. That was … tolerable. She only had to hear it once to know he did love her. She could now clearly see the words in his eyes and feel them when he touched her and or had his body pressed against her. Once was enough. But still it would have helped take the sting out of this moment. To have that bit of reassurance. The words alone were superficial but it would have helped to hear them while she watched him, weighed down by heavy bags and a large suitcase, shuffling slowly away from her. She almost called out to tell him she changed her mind. Stay! Stay with me! Never leave me! But she brought both hands over her mouth and gripped down hard. She would not do it. She would never make him regret what they had. What they have. Always will have.

It took a half hour before she could leave and trust her teary vision would not have her careening off the road. They had spent every moment that last week attached to each other. And as blissful as the time had been, it was also tinged by a dreamlike despair knowing they must soon separate. She had only returned to her home to get a change of clothes and to let Jonathan and Aunt Hodge know she was still breathing. She did not bother to pretend she was staying at Izzy's and fortunately they did not ask. Jonathan had not completely forgiven her for the episode in her room and there was an unusual coolness between them but admittedly she had only seen him at most fifteen minutes over the span of a week.

She arrived home but stayed in the car, parked in front of the house. Jace had insisted she take his car while he was away. He already had another car ready at his new Cambridge apartment. At least he wasn't dorming. She wasn't sure why that should be better but she had a vague idea of co-eds constantly dropping by his room if he lived there. Argh! She put her head down on the steering wheel. Like that would stop anybody! Any girl who got a look at him and spent a minute getting to know him would be stupid not to follow him wherever he lived and 'coincidentally' run into him … constantly … by his apartment … which would make it all too easy to invite them in … come in, sit down, won't you please run your hands all over my perfect body, through my silky hair, stare at my mesmerizing golden eyes that will have you burning up so hot you'll just have to rip off all your clothes. Sure, why not? My girlfriend's like a thousand miles away and … you know, I've only told her I love her the one time so it's not all that serious or anything. Stop it! Stop it! She gave herself two quick slaps to the face that left her dizzy. Wow. She probably should not have been quite so forceful. The door to the car opened and a pair of hands pulled her out of the car.

"Did I just see you slap yourself silly?" Izzy asked her.

"Oh my God, you saw that?" Clary admitted. What the hell. This was Izzy. "Ok, you caught me. I was having a psycho girlfriend conversation with myself and you know … had to do something to end it."

"Hmmm," Izzy squinted at her. "I haven't seen you for a week. Where've you been?" Izzy sighed shaking her head. "I don't know why I asked that. Obviously you were shacked up with loverboy and now you're having a meltdown since he's off to college. Which, I might add, is a totally normal thing that happens when a young adult graduates high school and something we were all totally ready for since he decided on Harvard over a month ago." She shook her head with a woeful expression at Clary. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Like you'd be just fine if Simon had to go away and you wouldn't see him for two whole weeks!" Clary vented.

"Two weeks!" Izzy said with disbelief. "You're making Jace haul himself back to see you in two weeks? My God, you have clinging issues. Give the boy some space. You're going to suffocate him. He needs to adjust. You know this is a big change for him and from what I've heard, Harvard is hard."

Clary returned an even more stunned look at Izzy. "That is not true! He loves my clinginess. In fact, he wishes I was more clingy!"

"Um hmm," Izzy smirked at her and Clary could not help but laugh at her own crazy.

"Alright, you win," Clary conceded. "But I miss him. I can't be away from him for a minute before I miss him and I'm driving myself crazy imagining all the college girls that are going to fall all over him while I'm not there and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm freaking out!"

"Come with me," Izzy said sagely, put an arm over her shoulders and guided her back into her home and up her room.

Izzy patted Clary's hair in smooth, calming strokes. "Now, hear me out," she started in a slow drawl.

"I'm not an imbecile," Clary huffed, sitting on the bed. "You don't have to talk to me like that."

"Okay," Izzy rolled her eyes. "Your nerves are clearly frazzled. You are forgetting a very key element to your current circumstances." Izzy's eyes brightened. "We're Seniors," she said triumphantly. "That's right. We're top tier now."

"Oh, for God's sake!" Clary laughed at her. "Who gives a –"

"Stop right there, Clary," Izzy gave her a reprimanding look. "It took four years to get here and we're going to enjoy it even if I have to kill you."

Well," Clary sighed. "It doesn't really mean a thing while we're on summer break."

"Exactly," Izzy smiled. "It's party time."

"What party?" Clary asked. She hadn't heard a thing about any party but then …

"Like you'd know what's going on even if it's right in front of your face," Izzy grumbled. "At least now that your man isn't around you can pay attention to … everything." Izzy flopped on the bed beside her. "There's going to be an epic party."

"Epic, huh?" Clary smilingly repeated. "And pray tell how does this party reach epic-hood?"

"Well, for one thing it's at the Westerley pool. A pool party, Clary!" Izzy squealed. "You know that pool is fabulous."

"Well, whoever can afford to throw a pool party at the Westerley Hotel is probably too rich for my blood," Clary shook her head sadly.

"You do know Jace has more money than God," Izzy said baffled.

"His grandmother is rich. Jace is just … perfect," Clary couldn't help seeing him … above her, reaching down to kiss her and …

"Get that goofy look off your face," Izzy said exasperated. "He's hot. I'll give you that … and loaded. How much do you think that sparkler around your neck cost?" Izzy pulled out the necklace where it nestled under her shirt. Jace had given it to her before he left. It was a bright yellow gold chain with a large custom made crystal heart pendant dangling heavily off it.

"I'm sure it was expensive but -," Clary began.

"That rock is a diamond," Izzy fingered it admiringly.

"But … it's pink!" Clary exclaimed.

"You're hopeless. Yes, a pink diamond," Izzy replied.

"But … it's huge!" Clary had actually found it a bit much for her own tastes, a little ostentatious, but beautiful, certainly beautiful and she promised not to take it off.

"Yes, my non-imbecilic friend. It's a great big pink diamond that must have cost a fortune," Izzy clucked at her. "But, we're off topic. Why do you always do that? We have a pool party to go to!"

"Whose pool party?" Clary was really not in any mood to go to a party but she had to admit it should get her mind off Jace and all her increasingly hysterical imaginings of Jace and the horde of co-eds that would no doubt drool after him.

"Just get in a swimsuit," Izzy told her. "Forget it. I'll pick it out. You sit. Do as I say." Izzy proceeded to Clary's dresser and rifled through the swimwear.

Clary watched her. She had actually missed the way Izzy could commandeer her look. She could make an excellent stylist.

"So, anyone can get in this shindig?" Clary asked absently.

"It's invite only, of course. Can you imagine how packed it would get it if everyone could get in?" Izzy pulled out a navy blue bikini Clary had forgotten she had. "That would be unsafe."

"That two piece is unsafe," Clary stated, arms crossed. "I don't know where that came from. It doesn't look like something I would ever pick out. I don't know how a person can even swim in that thing."

Izzy crossed her eyes at her. "Well, that's because I picked it out and I clearly remember you looked fabulous in it. Now get up and put it on."

Clary was about to refuse but big billowing storm clouds in Izzy's eyes warned her off and she opened her hand complacently to accept the few scraps of cloth and strings.

She wrapped it around her hand and got up to change. "Um … so where's Si? Is he coming?"

Izzy's glower eased into an affectionate grin. "Of course he's coming. You don't think he'd let me go prancing off to party without him wearing only a bathing suit."

"Well then," Clary mumbled. "Maybe Jace wouldn't want me going to a party in a swimsuit without him either."

Izzy grabbed Clary's shoulders. "Clary, believe me, Jace is too busy getting to Harvard, getting situated, to be concerned about you going to a party and besides, Jonathan will be there. We all know Jonathan will not let anyone come near you."

Clary considered this. She really hoped that bit about Jace having no concern about her was untrue but she couldn't stay home alone. She knew that would inevitably lead to an insufferable longing for Jace and then she'd be counting the minutes until she could reasonably facetime him and then she'd be wondering who he had met and whether any of these new people were tall, gorgeous, Harvard genius witches.

"Fine, let's do this," Clary moved toward the bathroom. "You never did say who's throwing this party?"

"Oh … didn't think it mattered," Izzy was peering into the large mirror over Clary's dresser. "Some girl … don't think you know her. Her name's Regina … Spalding."


	16. Chapter 16 Pool Party

Clary did not think Regina would remember her. They had only met that one time, a brief moment in front of the Idris Museum and they had hardly spoken to one another. But she couldn't help a flutter of nervousness when the three of them arrived at the hotel and stood in front of the enormous pool deck. Maybe it was the odd way they met, that she was introduced as Jace's girlfriend and reason why he had cancelled his date with Regina. At least the party was in full swing and even if it was an invite only affair there were so many people there, Clary thought it improbable that she'd even see Regina.

The crowd was almost exclusively pretty young things, male and female. That made sense, she supposed. After all, if this was Regina's party, she hardly be inviting stately old men and women but once again it didn't seem as if anyone was concerned about legal drinking ages with a large open bar and a buffet styled banquet table full of food, beer and wine laid out.

She found a place for the three of them to lie back and soak up the sun by the pool while Simon, who looked really good after months of a steady workout with Clary and Izzy, went to get them some refreshments. Izzy was taking off her outer garments, a loose tank and wrap around skirt, on the lounge chair next to Clary. Clary could see that Izzy immediately drew attention to her long, lean, tanned and toned body as she lay comfortably back and fitted a pair of oversize tortoise shell sunglasses over her eyes. She was the epitome of cool glamour and she clearly knew it. Clary couldn't help smiling at this display. For the longest time, most of her life really, she had always lived sort of vicariously off Izzy's exploits. Of course, that was before she met Jace with all his vitality and the excitement that he brought into her life made any vicarious living completely obsolete. Still, she had … missed this. Living in the shadows, no one knew her and no one she wanted to know outside of her own small circle, just watching and observing the interactions and foibles of all the fumbling strangers around her.

And now, here she was, in a constant fumbling and uncertain state. Is this what love does to you, she asked herself. It was totally worth it when Jace was beside her but now with him so far away and their paths headed on unknown trails, she didn't know. She couldn't tell. There was just this ever present, intense feeling of incompleteness. How was she going to do this? He just left. If she was like this now, only hours since his departure, what was she going to be like in a week?

"Are you taking that thing off?" Izzy asked, eyeing her above the sunglasses she had pulled down to the bridge of her nose. Izzy looked distastefully at the large paint splattered t-shirt Clary had thrown over the blue bikini she had been forced to wear. Well, there was that and the cut-off jeans but Izzy seemed to be particularly offended by the shirt.

"I think it's very … me," Clary defended herself. "Colorful, no?" But even as she said this she pulled it off knowing she would never win this battle with Izzy.

She had just taken off the cutoffs and stretched out on her own lounge chair with her own pair of sunglasses over her eyes when a dark shadow loomed above her. She opened one eye. Jonathan, of course.

"Hey, bro. What's up?" she greeted him.

Jonathan frowned down at her. He really looked like some kind of Greek god, with his honeyed tan and clearly defined muscles bulging off his bare chest, arms and legs. She rarely noticed just how good looking he was because he was her brother but some things could not be overlooked when they were half naked and standing right above you.

"What are you wearing?" Jonathan's scowl deepened. "Or maybe I should say what are you not wearing? You're practically naked."

Clary could feel a blush rising on her cheeks. "Keep it down," she hushed at him. "Do you have to do this? Why are you always embarrassing me?"

Izzy leaned over, resting her weight on an elbow, perfectly posed and looking as if she was ready for a photo shoot. "See, I told you. You look hot. You know your brother wouldn't be here huffing and puffing if you weren't smoking."

Jonathan shot a contemptible look at Izzy, then turned back to Clary. "So, as soon as the boyfriend's away, you're out here, practically naked, to what? Lure in another sucker and turn him into another sappy, twisted love slave?"

Izzy sat up straight and stared hard at Jonathan. "First of all … Jonathan, I happen to know your little sister is completely and devotedly in love with her boyfriend and she was in desperate need of an intervention unless you think it's a good idea to have her beating herself up in front of your home." Izzy's withering look was colder than Clary had ever witnessed on her before. "I always thought you were like the best big brother ever, the kind of brother I always wished I had … but really … the last thing the poor girl needs is this … guilt trip. Do you want her wallowing in her room, turning into some deathly pale shut in?"

Clary wasn't sure what part of this exchange was more shocking. The idea that Izzy had always wished for a brother like Jonathan, that she would ever speak to him like this when she had always only gazed at him with wide eyed admiration or that Jonathan appeared positively flummoxed, completely speechless.

Jonathan took a step back but kept his eyes steady on Izzy. "You know, Isabelle," he said in a subdued voice, "if you and Simon ever break up, let me know." He gave her a long appreciative look then turned his attention back to Clary. "I guess I sort of overdid it. You've outgrown me … but you've still got some good friends to watch out for you. I love you," he said quietly.

Clary stood up and put her arms around Jonathan's neck, hugging him tightly. It was a little weird holding onto him with so much bare skin between them, touching, but … he was her brother and no matter what she would always love him.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I love you too. You'll always be the most perfect boy in my eyes, the measure of any guy who crosses my path. Why do you think it took so long for me to even notice a boy? Only someone as … spectacular as Jace could compare."

Jonathan grinned down at her and held onto her waist. "You know, this is a little creepy." Then he sighed and let her go. "I still wish you wore something a little more … modest."

Clary smiled up at him and used her fingers to add some unneeded body to her hair. "So … I do look hot?" she teased, then had a stray thought. "You here with Seelie?" She looked around expecting to meet her cool aquamarine eyes and haughty sneer.

"Nah," Jonathan shrugged. "We're through."

Clary looked at him with concern. They had been dating for ages, over a year, a phenomenal amount of time for her brother. She had actually begun to think Seelie might be 'the one' for him.

"You okay?" she asked.

Jonathan gave her an easy grin and then it turned positively heated when he looked down at Izzy who was definitely not wearing anything more modest than Clary. "I'm fine. She had all these … rules and … plans for our 'post high school, adult relationship' and I … couldn't deal."

Clary was not sure how to react to this news. She had never liked Seelie but if she couldn't hold onto Jonathan with the advent of College, how the hell would Clary manage? She started chewing nervously on her lip.

"Stop that," Jonathan whispered. "He's not like me and you're not like her. He's … totally in love with you. Anyone can see that."

Clary watched him, her eyes rounded with amazement. "Did he … tell you that?"

Jonathan scowled at her. "Are you crazy? He' knows I'd kill him. Can't even look at him without wanting to pummel his head repeatedly. I don't need to hear him say a thing about you. It's obvious, Clary. Can't you see it?"

"Listen, Baby Sis," Jonathan continued. "You know I think this … thing you have with Jace is maybe … too much too soon, but … I can't deny he loves you and you being here, looking like this, right after he left … may send out the wrong signals."

"What do you mean?" Clary asked honestly confused.

Jonathan looked put out with her naiveté but slung an arm around her and gave her a supportive squeeze. "That you're on the prowl … and trust me, people are watching and interested."

"Jonathan! I thought that was you!" a familiar giddy voice rang out.

Her chestnut brown curls appeared redder than the last time Clary saw her and she had a glowing brown tan that implied an extended time basking under the hot sun. Regina Spalding was the very picture of a perky, petite and very pretty heiress. There was something about her, other than her designer swimsuit, pristinely polished nails and expensive jewelry, that clearly broadcast she came from money and lots of it. Two perfectly long nailed, manicured hands held onto Jonathan's elbows as Regina reached up to greet him with kisses on both cheeks.

"So glad you made it," she said, her brown eyes wide and sparkling.

"Thanks, Regina, it's a great party," Jonathan responded. He unleashed his lady killer smile on her, the one that generally had female hearts double timing it and Clary was pretty certain Regina was no exception. She licked her lips and leaned into his arm.

"So, do you know my sister, Clary, and her best friend, Isabelle?" he gestured toward the two girls.

"Oh," Regina straightened and gave them both the once over. "Hi. Of course, I know Izzy and … Clary," Regina narrowed her eyes peering closely at Clary. "Oh my god, that necklace is … to die for!" She laser focused on the pendant around Clary's neck. "Wait, I know you … you're … Jace's sweetheart." Regina nodded. "I had no idea you were Jonathan's sister. You two don't look a bit alike."

"Come on," Jonathan urged. "The eyes are a dead giveaway."

Regina lifted a corner of her mouth. "I guess … You two do have beautiful eyes," she acknowledged. "You're a lucky girl, Clary. Surrounded by gorgeous men," she explained.

"So, do you have a date to this party?" Jonathan asked.

Regina looked a little surprised. "Didn't you bring Seelie?"

Jonathan gave her a worried look, "Why? Is she here?"

"I don't think so. Haven't seen her but aren't you two together?" Regina asked.

Jonathan placed both of his hands behind his neck. Clary wondered if he meant to show off the rippling muscles on his torso and arms because this move was a perfect showcase for them and she could swear she heard a collective sigh around them.

"That's the problem with ending a long term relationship. No one can believe you're not permanently attached to each other," he grumbled.

"Oh, I believe it," Regina responded, her eyes lit up with keen interest. "I just can't believe it took this long for me to find out. I'm sorry I didn't hear sooner."

Jonathan seemed adequately appeased. "Well, it just happened so … you're forgiven. Do you want to hang out?"

Regina looked crestfallen. "I have a date. But call me, I'd love to hang out with you another time."

By this point in their conversation, Clary had already sat back in her lounge chair and only half listened. She was glad Jonathan did not seem affected by the breakup with Seelie and what he said about Jace had her mind swirling and her whole body fired up. She knew for a fact Jonathan would never say Jace loved her unless he truly believed it. Somehow this affirmation from Jonathan was more reassuring than anything. Only having Jace physically beside her at this very moment, telling her he loved her, alone and stretched out on a bed together, him on top and inside her, moving slowly in and out while their eyes locked on each other and all the words he couldn't say were still communicated through their stare and merging bodies, could rival it. God, she was getting so hot thinking about it. Even in this tiny bikini, just imagining Jace was enough to make her burn up and squirm uncomfortably.

The name 'Sebastian' on Regina's lips woke her from her reverie.

"Yeah, I'm here with Sebastian. He kept me waiting long enough, almost two weeks since I gave him my number and I'm not sure it was worth the wait," Regina looked coyly up at Jonathan, "I don't know where his head's at but I've got to repeat myself at least three times to get his attention and even then I can tell he's still thinking about something else. He probably doesn't even realize I left." Regina was clearly unused to this type of treatment.

Jonathan shook his head sympathetically and shot a strange look at Clary. "Well, that doesn't sound like him. Sebastian is usually all about a good time. Where is he?"

"He's by the shaded cabanas. You two are friends. Maybe you can snap him out of this … funk," Regina wondered.

"Sure. I'll go check on him," Jonathan agreed. "Care to join me?" he gave Regina an irresistible smile and she promptly took his arm. "I'll see you two girls, later. Keep out of trouble." This was accompanied by a deadpan look to Clary and then a wink.

Clary and Izzy watched the two of them walk away. It was obvious Regina was delighted by Jonathan's attention. Her giggle seemed to grow louder even as she walked away.

"Am I dreaming?" Izzy said in a shell shocked voice. "Did your brother actually … proposition me … and then saunter away with Regina Spalding?"

Clary laughed. "Yes, to both. But we both know you two are like ships in the night. Only destined to cross paths but never meet … that would be disastrous."

"I just can't believe it," Izzy muttered. "I've been waiting for this moment almost fifteen years and … wait a minute … why isn't Simon back yet?" Izzy perked up now. Clary could see that while Izzy might always retain some vestige of the over decade old crush on Jonathan, Simon held center stage in her heart.

"What the hell?" Izzy sat up stiffly her eyes glued to two figures a few yards away.

Sure enough, there was Simon, balancing three drinks and a plate of snacks, while some young thing (a pretty blonde young thing in her own barely there bikini) had her hands all over him. Simon looked flattered but clearly uncomfortable and uncertain of how to make an escape.

"Blondie better back off," Izzy hissed. "Excuse me, Clary. I've got to go save my man." She stood up and marched toward Simon.

Clary watched bemused. She knew Simon was not used to this type of attention and it would take him some time for him to master a smooth get away from female admirers. Judging from the relieved look on Simon's face when he saw Izzy walking towards them, he would need some rescuing in the meantime.

Clary realized Simon's general inexperience at being an object of desire could create some misunderstanding between him and Izzy and then of course that led her to a comparison of her own relationship with Jace. As inexperienced as Simon might be at least he had a few girlfriends before Izzy, unlike herself who had only had the half date with Raphael before Jace came into her life. Going from zero to over a hundred on the sex highway with Jace really hadn't helped either. She was basically clueless as far as interacting with the opposite sex and Jonathan was right. She shouldn't be here. Not like this, in a string bikini, showing it all off. She knew Izzy meant well. She knew Izzy's solution to cheering up was generally basking in admiration but she had no idea what she was doing and certainly did not know how to handle unwanted attention. She always had Jace and Jonathan to guard her. Before Jace, there really hadn't been a need for any protection even though Jonathan had always acted as if she were in danger of abduction at every turn. The cover of oversized, layered clothing, smudged glasses and a messy mop of hair fixed atop her head had been sufficient. Boys never gave her a second glance then but now … she could often feel surging male testosterone all around her and the pointed stares made her uncomfortable. No one approached her while Jace had a possessive arm permanently around her but now she felt lost without him.

She should go. Jace would not want her here without him and if she had to be without him she should not be parading around like this. Now if Jace were here, then it would be fun teasing him in this getup. She could imagine how worked up she could get him in this outfit and how quickly they would find someplace to be alone and even these tiny scraps of cloth would soon be discarded. She was so consumed with these thoughts she did not realize someone sat down next to her until she heard another familiar voice she hadn't heard in a long time.

"Hi, Clary," he said. He was holding two tall glasses containing an icy brown liquid in his hands and held one out to her. "Do you want one? It's a little strong but good."

She was so astonished to see him she automatically took the extended drink and took a long sip from the straw that bobbed out of it not knowing how else to respond.

"Blech!" was her involuntary reaction. "What the hell is it?" she looked down at it. It was chockfull of alcohol for sure and some other sweet and lemony flavors.

Raphael laughed. "It's a Long Island Iced Tea. Never had one, I guess?"

"No," she answered and took another nervous sip. The second taste was actually better than the first. It certainly warmed her up despite its icy coolness and helped ease her tension.

"So, how've you been?" he asked her and put his own drink down on a table behind them.

"Good. How about you?" Clary answered.

It felt really strange having a one on one conversation with Raphael again. They hadn't spoken since that movie date so long ago and the last time their eyes met, a few days later at school, all she could see was hurt and resentment and then she avoided looking at him altogether. She thought he was seriously dating Lily, a very pretty Asian Sophomore. She had seen them together at school and was glad he seemed happy.

"I was surprised to see you here," Raphael continued.

He seemed very cautious around her. Clary wondered why he approached her now. She hoped he didn't still harbor a grudge against her. What if this was all a part of some master plan for revenge? She found herself growing increasingly anxious and actually cringed backward, clutching her drink.

"Whoa," Raphael said and took her empty drink away. "You shouldn't drink that fast. I told you it was strong. Why do you look so … scared?"

Clary cleared her throat. "Sorry, just wondering what brings you over. We haven't talked … for a long time."

Now a fearful look rose up on Raphael's face. "I thought … we could … be friends? When school starts again, we'll both be Seniors … so it would be nice if we could get along in our final year?"

Clary examined him closely and felt a little lightheaded. Yup, she had a healthy buzz on. She should really stay away from alcohol but … it was a lot of FUN.

"You really want to be friends?" she leaned in close to him, staring deeply into his eyes. She would get the truth out of his eyes, so help her. She was a human lie detector. All she had to do was keep her own eyes locked on his and no blinking. Whoever blinked lost. Whoever blinked was the loser here.

"Are you okay?" Raphael squinted at her.

"Ah ha! You blinked. What are you hiding?" she grabbed his hand, willing the truth out of him.

Raphael chuckled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have given you that drink. Listen, I just want to be friends. I really did miss the way we hung out together … with Izzy and even Simon. What do you think?"

"Are you here with Lily?" Clary looked wildly around for her.

"What? No … we're not together … anymore," he said haltingly.

"Oh no! Why not? What happened? Tell me!" Both hands reached up to hold up each of her cheeks, a tragic expression on her face. "Has true love died? Is it over? Is there nothing to believe in? Nothing at all!" she wailed.

"Oh my God," Raphael shook his head, concern clearly written on his face. "Please don't tell Jonathan I gave you that drink."

She jumped off the lounge. "Why aren't we dancing?" She surveyed the scene and sure enough there was a wide open square with a nice crowd of people dancing in front of a deejay stationed on a raised booth above them.

She bolted towards the dance floor without a backwards glance.

"Clary!" Raphael shouted behind her.

It was seriously packed at this party. Clary vaguely recalled hearing this was an invitation only party but with so many people here Clary was convinced Regina must have invited the entire town. She weaved through the masses and managed to get to the dance floor. Sometimes it was super handy to be so small. Didn't require much space to get through a horde of people although she had to push a bit but she barely heard the "hey's" and "watch-it's" that followed her wake.

And then there she was, lifting her hands up in the air and shaking her hips. Eyes closed and just feeling the driving beat. This was great. Soon, she could feel hands on her and that was nice too. It was really beautiful how everyone could just be free and dance and share the love. She opened her eyes and realized she was dancing with a complete stranger. Good looking, though. Sandy blonde hair, she was pretty sure she liked blondes, and a wide white smile. He was tall enough that her head only reached his shoulders and he clearly took care of his body. She liked that too. He already had his hands on her waist and they traveled downward to grip her hips.

"You're sexy as hell," he smiled down at her.

"Thanks. You're tall. How tall are you?" she asked conversationally.

His hands reached around and pulled her closer to him. "You want a drink?" he asked her.

"Sure, why not? Drinks are fun," she said and kept her hands on his shoulders. She needed to keep some space between them and that seemed the easiest way to maintain some distance but he kept bending down and pulling her closer.

"Why are you doing that?" she asked. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to dance with his body attached to hers.

"Cause you smell delicious and I want to eat you up," he told her and then his head came down quick.

Still she managed to turn her head away so that his mouth met her neck but that didn't seem to be much of a deterrent and he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up.

"I want to dance," she complained and almost fell backward when he suddenly let her go and disappeared.

But she was glad he was gone. Too handsy and Jace would be furious. Jace! Where was her baby? She missed him! Where was he? Oh yeah, he was gone. Far, far away. She stopped dancing and felt as if she were drowning in a great big sea of melancholy.

"Why so sad, sweet thing?" Another voice asked her with another set of hands that fell on her hips. "Your dancing was really turning me on and then you just stopped." He asked her.

Clary turned her head up. She wondered if it was the same guy. He looked a lot like the other guy but … no, this one had dark brown hair. Otherwise, they could seriously be twins.

"Get the fuck off her," came from behind her.

The dark haired stranger looked at the owner of the voice, lifted his hands up and walked backwards and away from her.

Clary turned around to face her champion. She knew it wasn't him. She would have felt it otherwise but she couldn't help hoping …

Sebastian stood behind her, breathing heavily. He looked … annoyed. "Can't you stay out of trouble for a minute? I take care of one asshole and as soon as I turn around, there's another one all over you." He stopped when his eyes traveled down from her face to take her in fully. "Oh my God, what are you wearing?"

He was a buzz killer. But wait, this song! She loved this song and she started moving, swaying her body side to side. She grabbed Sebastian's hands. "Dance with me. Love this song!"

"Clary, that's not a good idea," he answered stiffly.

"Why not?" she pouted.

"Because … because … you shouldn't be dancing. Not with that body … in that bikini … and I really can't fight off any more guys … especially myself. Now come with me." He grabbed her arm and pulled her off the dance floor through an area roped off and guarded by large men, into a private cabana.


	17. Chapter 17 Something More

"What are we doing in here?" she asked, sobering up without the pounding music and the feel of back to back people all around.

It looked like something out of a desert mirage movie, with long flowing sheer curtains and large, plush and cushioned beds. Cool white blocks were lined against them with pitchers of drinks and food on top. But instead of a view of sandy mountains, there was the pool and swarming crowds of people dancing and having a good time. There were about another four similar cabanas on either side of them and she could see other people mingling in them, some of them on the beds and rolling around without a care for the people only a short distance away.

"Holy crap!" her eyes almost fell out of her head when she recognized one couple getting down and dirty. "My eyes!" she squealed and abruptly twisted away but was afraid the image of her brother's naked butt would be permanently etched in her mind. "Quick, get me a drink. I need to forget this, stat!" She sat down, keeping her eyes closed and covered with her hands.

"Is that a good idea?" Sebastian chuckled but handed her a drink anyway. "Just take it easy. You're a real lightweight."

"Wait a minute," Clary slowly unraveled her hand from her face, the other one holding the glass Sebastian had just given her. "I'm not looking but … I think … I think that was Regina … cavorting with my brother … Am I right?" She was pretty sure she recognized those long, lacquered red nails pressed down on his back along with the heavy golden bangles on the wrist a few inches above the fingers attached to those nails.

"Cavorting, huh?" Sebastian laughed and sat down next to her. "Yeah, cavorting … that's what they're doing, alright."

There was something about the way he said it that made her uncomfortable so she moved away and put the drink down on one of the long white blocks on the other side of her.

Then a pang of sympathy overtook any other sensations. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. Weren't you two … together? I wish he … left her alone," she ended a bit feebly. It really didn't look as if Sebastian was disappointed. In fact, he didn't look like himself at all. Well maybe he did, like the old Sebastian … like someone she did not care to be around at all.

He leaned back on his elbows and gave her a slow, sultry look that she had not seen on him in a long time.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked point blank. It was best to avoid any games with him and she was no longer feeling the pleasant boozy absent minded daze that she was enjoying just a few minutes ago.

"Well, what do you expect? You can't dress … or undress like that and expect me not to look. Do you still want to dance?"

"No," she answered quickly. "Stop it. You're creeping me out."

Sebastian sat up and looked upset. "Seriously? You're out there with completely random guys all over you and I'm creeping you out?"

"What are you talking about?" Now Clary was getting angry. "I was dancing!"

"Is that what you call it?" Sebastian spit out. "Well, while you were dancing, those guys were about to drag you off and it didn't look like you were in any condition to refuse. If I didn't get there, who knows what would have happened to you!"

Clary glared at him. "The only person who's dragged me anywhere is you and now I'm getting out of here!"

"Clary, stop!" Sebastian grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. There was a desperate look on his face and something behind his eyes that … disturbed her. But he seemed to know she was searching in them for answers and shut them tight, one hand still holding her arm and keeping her from leaving while the other hand went up and gripped his thick black locks.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I don't know how to be …"

"What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"This … is unfamiliar territory … You and me … and now, with the way you look ... I … You have to know," he opened his eyes and the look he gave her was open, honest and … passionate.

She took a step back but couldn't move far with his grip on her arm getting tighter.

"Sebastian," she said in a warning tone.

"I like you. A lot." He kept his eyes on hers and she was beginning to feel a flush rise up her body. "You know I care for you. I'm pretty sure your brother knows it too and he knows I'm not just fucking around. He knew I didn't care if he hooked up with Regina. All he had to do was say you were here and I left her. I went looking for you. And … and …," he seemed to be at a loss for words.

This was so unlike him that Clary was drawn to him, wanting to comfort him. She came closer to him and laid her hands on his arms. "Sebastian, I care for you too. You've been such a good friend. I'm sorry for yelling. Thank you for everything, for being there for me."

Sebastian now lowered his hands to hold her around her waist. It felt … a little too intimate and she was about to move away when his grip tightened and her eyes lifted to meet his.

"Are you ever going to give me a chance?" he asked her, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath.

"What are you saying?" she wanted to get out of there … and she didn't.

Her body involuntarily reacted to his close proximity. They were only inches away from each other and the way he looked at her brought out that feeling that only Jace had ever ignited in her. The kind that had a thrill rise through her body.

"Isn't it obvious? I want you. I've never wanted anyone so bad," he said, his lips so close to hers the slightest movement would have them together.

She jumped back, eyes wide and her body quivering. "You know I love Jace. I've got to go."

Panic seemed to cross his face. "Wait, Clary."

She stopped but did not look at him. It was a relief to have a few feet between them.

"We can still be friends," he said, his voice stricken.

"We can?" she asked hopefully. She wanted him … in her life.

"Yes," he answered, relief evident in his tone. "And … I'll be good. Just promise me something."

She raised her eyes, curious, "What?"

"That the next time you two … break up, you'll give me a chance," he said.

Her heart stopped a beat. "Sebastian, we're not breaking up. I'm not going to let that happen again." She couldn't have him hanging onto a false hope. As much as she wanted to keep him, to protect herself … she did truly care for him.

Sebastian seemed to deflate at her words but then slowly stood upright and tall again. "Okay. That's okay … but … if it happens …" he didn't finish but it was clear what he was trying to say.

"I don't want you waiting around for something like that to happen," she said contritely. "I think you're awesome and any girl would be lucky to have you seriously interested in her … not just playing around. Can't you try? Can't you try to find someone else and give it a real chance?" She realized the idea of Sebastian with another girl, in a serious relationship, bothered her a little but she pushed it away. She couldn't think like that. She couldn't … keep him … on reserve … or whatever it was.

"I'll try if you promise," he answered.

She wasn't sure how to respond to this and found herself nodding. "But you have to really try. I'll be watching … and you understand … I'm not letting him go."

Sebastian reciprocated her nod. "But if he ends things … then you'll … come to me," he confirmed.

"I don't know how you expect me to answer that!" she was frustrated. "If you honestly try to find someone else then how … why would I come to you if you've already found her? None of this makes sense!"

"Because that's the only way I'll try … if you agree. So promise and I'll try," he answered.

"Alright," Clary felt strangely relieved. She didn't understand what kind of arrangement they had agreed to but recognized this allowed her to keep him in her life. "Now, stop being stupid. Honestly, how could you let my manwhore brother take your woman like that?"

Sebastian just eased back on the bed and laughed. "That's okay. She's not right for me … too much of a princess," he sputtered when Clary gave him a reprimanding look.

"I'm going to put some clothes back on," Clary shook her head at him. "Apparently my lack of swimsuit coverage is … dangerous," she laughed and hoped he'd laugh with her. She really wanted them to be friends again, the way they were before.

"Yeah," Sebastian kept his eyes on her face. "That's probably for the best."

"And then," she said, jolly now, feeling as if their camaraderie was returning, "you owe me a dance."

* * *

Somehow a week had passed and each day seemed both harder and easier to get through. Harder because of course every day without Jace, without touching and feeling him, added to a growing sense that she was missing a vital part of herself. Each night was filled with a mix of hazy scenes of their joyful reunion or a permanent rift that left her alone in a colorless gray void. So, she found herself waking up alternating between a wish that she was back asleep, living only in her dreams, or in a tearful despondence, wishing she never had to sleep again.

They made it a daily habit to skype at six o'clock each evening, her time. Jace was a few hours ahead so this allowed them to spend at least an hour gazing at the other's digital image and talking. Sometimes she wasn't even sure what they had spoken about since she spent the entire call staring so intensely at the screen attempting to absorb him through it. She worried that she couldn't feel him, not physically but their other connection … she couldn't feel him that way anymore, at least not through the computer screen and phone line. Still, she looked forward to their nightly calls and was more than a little upset when Jace sent her a text.

 _Can't make our call tonight. Text you later._

She felt her stomach drop and shivered a little as if there were a chill in the air. She had to hold herself back from immediately texting back with a series of whining questions. She tried to remember if anything seemed particularly off during their last call. It wasn't easy to tell without that extra sense that seemed to broadcast his feelings. He looked a little tired. He wasn't happy that his grandmother insisted he settle in earlier than he needed to for school. He had thought she had plans to get him more involved with the family business headquartered in Manhattan but instead there were more social brunches, lunches, dinners, soirees and escorting duties. Twice, they had their call immediately after one of these dinner parties and he had started the calls looking gorgeous, of course, all dapper and suited up, but stiff and rather harangued. He swiftly resumed his more 'normal' demeanor, discarding his tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, and that of course had her breathing heavy visualizing everything else behind those buttons, a smile back on his face and his eyes alight at the sight of her.

They didn't ask each other how they were feeling. It was obvious enough they missed each other and it wouldn't help to dwell on this fact. They mostly talked about how they spent their day, if anything interesting had happened, what was on the agenda for the next day. Their conversations were almost always limited to a two day span covering today and tomorrow. It was too difficult to think about all the remaining days before she would see him again.

She racked her mind for any indication that would explain his absence from today's call. He had seemed unusually impatient with his grandmother, actually making some disdainful comments about how she wanted to run his life and then looked a little confused when he admitted he wasn't sure this path she had chosen for him was what he wanted.

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

"I mean this, all of this. I always thought I had to carry out the life my father abandoned but … I don't know anymore," he ended quietly.

"So, what do you want? What do you want to do with your life?" she wondered. She had always assumed taking on the mantle of the Herondale business empire was what he wanted.

"I … want to do something … meaningful. Not just to make more money for the sake of making money … and I want you," he answered decisively.

She smiled then, "Well, you have me. You just have to decide what else you want."

He shook and lowered his head so she could no longer see his eyes. "But you're so far away … It's hard to think straight. It's hard to know anything else when … we're so far apart."

She sighted, totally understanding and sharing these feelings. It was true. Her days were active and busy but always there was that ever present longing for Jace. This longing was beginning to feel like a permanent and unchangeable aspect of her life.

"You'll be back next week, right?" she answered, expecting his reassurance.

Jace did not answer but seemed to still and before she could question him further, the doorbell rang at his place. He stood up, an agitated and downtrodden expression returning to his face.

"That's got to be grandmother. She said she'd come by. I have to go, baby," and then they ended their call.

She had worried about his evident fatigue … and his general uncertainty with the direction of his life but … he was Jace … he was perfect. He could do anything. He only needed to figure what that thing should be and there was no question he would accomplish it.

It was still summer break for her. Another two weeks before her Senior year officially started and she spent the time pretty much the same way she had before Jace had left for Cambridge and before they had reconciled and were together practically every moment of the day and night. So, basically she was with Sebastian most of the time and it was … good. It made the time easier to get through. It filled the long hours of the day and they managed to get back to a comfortable companionship. Besides their daily runs and trips to the gym, they could sit together silently while she painted and he kept himself busy reading or playing on his phone. She had finished his portrait and he was pleased with it. Although, she could tell more by his wide eyed examination than from his complimenting words.

Jonathan had left for Northwestern after a whirlwind three day high intensity romance with Regina. She barely saw him since the pool party and that was not a bad thing considering she still had stomach churning flashbacks of witnessing his activities there. Regina had even joined the family to see him off which meant they all had a very luxurious ride in a stretch limo. Clary couldn't help but notice how very much at ease Jonathan was with this level of grandeur and did not seem at all to mind the proprietary sugar mama attitude Regina held over him. But, she certainly did not attempt to tell him what he could or could not do. She had already gifted him with very expensive designer luggage and many fine additions to his wardrobe were nestled in these leather cases. She made several comments about the other things he needed and she would supply the next time she saw him and Clary was duly impressed by Regina's deft maneuverings. Jonathan was too hyper excited to pay much attention to her running commentary but he was liberal with his kisses and he kept his arm draped around her shoulders, sometimes lowering it to squeeze her waist or somewhere lower when his hand disappeared behind her. Clary was somewhat amazed by this pda in front of her and their Aunt Hodge but it was nice to see him so jazzed up and not so tightly wound up. He had been so stressed about the outcome of the football season, his grades, his scholarship and university acceptance for so many months throughout his Senior year, she had almost forgot what it was like to see him laugh so freely, his green eyes sparkling with delight.

No less amazing was the drooping sadness evident on Aunt Hodge's face. She would not face any of them directly but Clary noticed her dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief several times. Their relationship had thawed quite a bit since they shared their mutual concerns over her break with Jace that week she had been a sobbing basket case buried under her covers. And since then, Clary had caught them conversing more than once. At first, these conversations seemed to be all about Clary and presumably her relationship with Jace since they would awkwardly end their conversations once she showed up but not long after she would enter a room and they would unconcernedly continue a discussion about Aunt Hodge's vegetable garden, some athletic gear on sale, the status of his college applications and on and on. Clary wished Aunt Hodge had opened her heart to Jonathan earlier but it was good to see this change in their relationship and judging by the emotions she could not contain, Clary suspected she had always harbored a strong affection for him.

When Jonathan finally left them, jauntily walking through the security gates, down the terminal, Clary could not hold back her own tears. They had been a team for as long as she could remember. He had always watched out for her and as much as she would complain about his protective watch and constant admonitions, she had always felt safe when he was there. They took care of each other. She wondered absently who would prepare his meals and wash his laundry, fold them and organize his dresser.

"I love you!" she shouted at him when a few yards separated them.

He turned to face her, his wide cocky grin faltering a little. He lifted a hand and blew a kiss at her before he turned back and headed for his plane.

The three women he left behind were quiet then and remained morose on the trip back home. Even Regina, who generally exuded a perky, upbeat and giggling persona said little, but frequently broke the silence with long, dejected sighs. They were only a few minutes from Aunt Hodge's home, when Regina turned to Clary and gave her a querulous look.

"So, do you think Jonathan would like a surprise visit?" she asked hopefully.

It was the first time any girl he dated had come to her for advice and Clary couldn't help wanting to help her. She didn't know much about Regina except that she really, really liked Jonathan and she didn't look down on Clary, literally or figuratively.

"Well, if I were you, I'd wait at least a week to call and see how he's doing … You know, make it casual, feel him out. See if he sounds like he's missing home … you … and if he does, well, I think he'd love a visit. I think it would mean a lot to him. But … if he sounds like he's really … involved with things at the new place and the new people, well, I wouldn't pursue him. He likes to be the one … chasing," Clary answered honestly.

Regina eyed her speculatively then continued, "So, you think that might have been the last time I see him?"

"No," Clary struggled to answer honestly without hurting Regina. She already had a dewy eyed look and bit her bottom lip. "Even if you don't see him … for a while … as long as you parted as … friends … I'm sure he'd be happy to see you again."

Clary found herself extending a hand and squeezing Regina's shoulder consolingly. "Don't worry. He likes you. But he's got a lot going on now. Just give him some space."

Regina nodded. "Is that … is that what you're doing for Jace?"

Clary stiffened. "Well, that's different. Jace and I have been dating for almost a year."

"Yeah, you're right," Regina agreed.

Still the conversation left her disconcerted. Did Jace need some space? Was she too clingy, like Izzy said? It seemed like a joke but maybe it wasn't, not really. She wanted very much to hear his voice right now … but he knew how to reach her and he sent her that text. He must be busy with something … important. Her heart leaped at the sound of a ping from her phone.

Jace! She thought and grabbed it from her desk. No, not Jace.

 _Movie tonight?_ ~ Sebastian

Hear heart resumed its normal beat but she was glad to hear from him. They had gone for their usual morning run and separated earlier than usual. He had a lunch with some friends and invited her along but no, she wanted to go home, take a nap, wait for Jace's call. That was of course before she received his text and now she would gladly get out of the house, away from her worrisome thoughts.

 _What? Where? With who?_ She answered back.

 _New vampire flick. I'll pick you up in half an hour. Group of us going_ , he answered swiftly.

 _OK, maybe we should meet at theater_ , she responded.

 _Why?_ ~ Sebastian

 _Don't want to cramp your style. Maybe you'll find a real date._ ~ Clary

 _Stupid. Can't think about girls when there are vamps to watch out for. Pick you in 25. Get ready._ ~ Sebastian

She shook her head and smiled at the phone.

 _OK._ ~ Clary

Clary changed out of her shorts and old t-shirt into a pair of jeans and another less worn t-shirt. She gave her hair a few good swipes with a brush and washed her face. Put her converse sneakers on and sat on the bench on the porch. It was warm but the sweltering hot humid temperatures had cooled with a pleasant breeze. She had some money in her back pocket and fiddled with the phone in her hand.

Should she text Jace? Tell him she was going out in case he could make their call after all? There hadn't been a peep from him since that last message a few hours ago. No, she would just have to get used to this. Jace was not at her beck and call. He was busy. She should be glad he found something interesting to do there. He did not look happy during their last call. He started the call, looking tired and plagued but ended it with a smile that formed just for her. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. She was always so eager to see him by the time they started their calls she could feel a big smile on her face and a burst of happiness at the sight of him. Even if it left her with a more gaping hallow feeling inside at least she still had that hour to hear his voice, see his face. It would have to be more difficult for him. Away from everyone and everything he knew, only his grandmother there and she was certain Madame Herondale did not offer any solace.

Sebastian's black Audi rolled up to the house and she lifted a hand to greet him. He stepped out of the car. He looked good. He wasn't wearing anything special, just a pair of jeans, t-shire, sneakers, like herself, but you could tell he had a killer body beneath those clothes and he always moved with such sleek precision you could see the well defined muscles moving with a sinewy grace. He walked quickly, seemed to take the four steps up the porch in one bounding step and sat next to her.

"What's with you?" he asked.

There was a softness in his expression that Clary rarely saw. It caught her off guard and so the words just came out, "I was checking you out. You're hot," and then she laughed. "Sorry, I miss Jace."

It was obvious he was not expecting her to say that and he looked a little flabbergasted but then a smirk appeared on his face. "Not telling me anything I don't already know," he answered but put an arm gently over her shoulders and it was so comforting she let her head rest against him.

"What are we doing?" she asked after a few minutes had passed but wasn't sure if she was asking him or herself.

Sebastian stiffened but kept his arm around her. "We're being friends, like you wanted," he said slowly.

She nodded her head but answered, "Sometimes, it doesn't feel like we're just friends."

She could feel his head turn to look at hers but she kept her eyes steadfastly ahead, her head still leaning back on his shoulder.

"You already know I want more … but I'm willing to wait until your heart is free, until you're ready for me," he said.

"The thing is … I don't think my heart will ever be free. Not for that. Even if things don't work out with Jace, he'll always have my heart. But for what it's worth, I love you, as much as I can love anyone else," she felt an aching hurt as she said the words and it made it hard to breathe. "But it's not fair to you and it's not right. You deserve better than this."

She felt his hand on her chin and it turned her face to his. "I'm in love with you. I don't want anyone else. I know Jace means a lot to you but he left and I stayed. Do you honestly think I stayed because I wanted to go to State? I stayed for you … because I'd rather wait on the sidelines, take whatever I can get, even if it is just your friendship. It's still worth it. I just want to be near you." His voice was clear but his glistening black eyes trembled, locking onto hers.

She felt an anguish rising up when she realized what she had to do.

"Don't you understand," she whispered. "I will never be able to love you the way I love Jace. Maybe you think that's okay but eventually … the affection you feel for me will sour and you'll hate me or you'll hate yourself."

"Stop. You don't know. You don't know what I feel. You don't know the future. All you know, all anyone knows is the here and now," his eyes held onto hers.

She wanted to look away but she couldn't do it.

"If you tell me to go, I'll go, but I'll still be waiting and I won't let you forget. I won't disappear. I'll still be where you are. I'll still be watching you and you'll still have to see me," he said with certainty.

"Why would you do that?" she asked, her voice cracking. "That's not you. You can have anyone you want. There are lots of girls, better than me."

His gaze finally released hers when he shut his eyes. "Have you not heard a thing I've said? I'm in love with you. I've tried to stop. It doesn't work that way." He opened his eyes again and this time the intensity behind them worried her. "You of all people should know that."

"I just don't understand," she said after a long moment. "I don't want you to get hurt and that's all I can see. If you hold onto this, you're never going to be happy."

He sighed and sat back. "But I am happy. When I'm with you, I'm happy."

She took his hand and tried to impart the truth through their connected grip and locked gazes. "You're my friend. I love you … as a friend. It can never be more than that."

He lifted his hand and gently brushed her cheek with his fingers. "That's fine. That's what you believe … now … Just say it again. Tell me you love me."

Clary felt confused. She had fully expected him to walk away and leave her. She sort of wished he would since she was not strong enough to do it herself. "I do. I do love you … just not –"

He cut her off, "Don't say anything else. Please. We don't need to talk about this again. We're friends. Please, let's stay friends?" he asked cautiously.

Clary's eyes searched into his. They were so deep and black they were like endless pools and she had no idea where they led.

"Okay, let's go get our vampire fix," she answered with a smile.


	18. Chapter 18 Reflections

The movie was fun. She let her mind go blank and stopped worrying. About Jace, about Sebastian, about Jonathan, about where her life was going. There were three other guys from the football team and four girls beside herself. She recognized two of them as incoming Seniors at Alicante High. She did not know the two other girls. It didn't seem as if anyone was dating but it did look like there would likely be a few dates by the end of the night. Raphael was one of the three other guys. It felt a bit awkward at first and even Sebastian seemed surprised.

"Didn't know you were coming," Sebastian said to him by way of a greeting.

Raphael shrugged. "Heard you were getting some of the guys together for a movie night." He shifted his gaze to Clary. "Thought it would be nice to catch up again." He ended with a smile directed at her.

She had a vague memory of talking to him at the pool party, experiencing a panic attach and then woosh, a jumble of dancing bodies, outstretched limbs and then a sobering conversation with Sebastian. She returned a friendly smile back at him and his own smile grew wider. It was then that she noticed Sebastian shift against her. She could feel him standing rigidly at her side, his body leaning against hers. She looked up at him curiously. He was acting a little weird, she thought, and took a small step away from him. He didn't say anything to her and did not return her look so she figured it was all just in her mind.

The two "new" girls Clary didn't know were clearly taken with Sebastian. They were friends with Allison, one of the Alicante cheerleaders who Clary did not know well but recognized as someone Jonathan had dated for a week or two during his sophomore year. They hung on every word Sebastian said, no matter how bland or trite, and laughed uproariously at anything that verged on the amusing. He stayed close to her, sat next to her during the movie but she remained quiet, didn't volunteer anything so gradually his attention was drawn to his eager audience. After the movie, the two girls took each of his arms and drew him over to the arcade games, begging him to show off his high scores on some shoot 'em up alien killing game He had turned to Clary, questioningly, and asked if she were coming but she shook her head and smiled encouragingly, urged him to have fun. A determined look came across his face then. He lifted his chin and strolled away with the cheerful duo.

She wished she had drove herself to the movie like she originally suggested. She didn't want to sit and wait, watch Sebastian's ego balloon from the obvious admiration of the two girls that leaned on either side of him. He was absorbed in his game while the girls alternated between cooing over his skills to staring each other down, marking their claim on him. Unfortunately, it looked like neither was willing to back off and Clary imagined there might be a rift and sore feelings between the two friends by the end of the night.

Her mind drifted away from the trio and wondered what Jace was doing. She pulled out her phone and looked down at the screen. It was almost the time that they would normally have their call and even though she had not heard from him since he sent that text saying he couldn't make their call tonight, a surge of anxiety rose up in her. She wanted to be home even if she couldn't speak with him. It felt important to be there nevertheless as if it reinforced their relationship, served as some kind of protection over their love. She was about to search for a car service. She should have enough money left for that. Sebastian had not attempted to pay for her ticket. He knew her well enough to know that she would not accept that. Just then someone sat down beside her and she looked up. It was Raphael.

"Oh, hey," she nodded at him and started to key in the search on her phone. "Enjoy the movie?"

"Yeah, it was cool," he answered, his eyes drifting over to her phone. "I'm sort of a vampire buff. I'd rate this movie a six, a solid six. Hey, do you need a ride?"

She looked over at him. "Yeah, I prefer perfectly beautiful sparkly, lovesick vampires that find true love in high school," Clary stated and then, "Really? You don't mind? I would like to get home."

Raphael looked at her aghast, "You can't tell me you liked those movies? You're not serious?"

Clary laughed, "Well … the movies were pretty horrible but the books … so romantical."

He shook his head. "So ridiculous." He smiled then, "Well, I guess it's a girl thing. You all seem to have some Robert Pattinson fantasy."

Clary gave him a disapproving look. "I can assure you, it's not about Robert Pattinson," she said distastefully. "It's Edward Cullen … Now, he's a dreamboat." Her eyes glazed over and she pretended to swoon. "Can you imagine loving someone as much as Edward loves Bella? It's like to die for … an epic love story." She leaned into him with the back of her hand dramatically lifted to her forehead.

Raphael laughed. "You know I never read the books and I think it's pretty safe to say I never will." He threw an arm around her good humoredly.

"I missed this. Us, just being friends," he told her. His smile diminished a little and he looked at her cautiously as if was crossing a slippery path.

She lowered her hand and laid them both over her phone. She nodded then. "I missed you too. You don't hate me?" she asked, subdued.

He squeezed her shoulder, "I could never hate you. Even right after, I couldn't hate you." He answered gently.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed out. "I wanted to talk to you but I was pretty sure you didn't want anything to do with me ever again."

"Yeah, well," he frowned a little. "It hurt. I was angry but … I got over it and I could see you and Jace were … serious. I was wrong being so hard on you. I mean … you shouldn't have left me in the middle of our first date but … I think I understand."

He looked down and visibly swallowed before he continued, "I mean … you follow your heart. That's not a bad thing. I can understand that."

It felt as if a warm blanket wrapped itself around her. He understood! And he was a truly kind and good person, just like she thought when she first met him almost four years ago. Jonathan had introduced them. He had looked at her kindly then. He did not dismiss or laugh at her like the rest of Jonathan's friends who mocked her indecipherable figure and mop of red curls. She had been too shy to say much to him then but she was grateful when he turned their attention away from her and she recognized the sympathy in the glances he directed at her.

His eyes widened at the look she gave him and when she took his hand, his cheeks reddened and his eyes cast down but he gave her hand a warm squeeze in return.

"Thank you, Raphael," she said. "It means a lot to me. I'm so glad we can be friends again."

He nodded his head in response.

"What's going on?" Sebastian appeared in front of them.

Clary smiled up at him. "Nothing. Hey, I think I'm going home now. Raphael says he can give me a lift." She turned back to Raphael. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he answered.

"So, I guess we'll be going," she finished and got up to go.

A crease formed between Sebastian's black brows. "Why? I can take you home."

"Don't be silly," Clary threw a pointed look at the two girls that waited for Sebastian a few feet away.

They glared at each other with almost identical hostile stances, arms crossed and foreheads furrowed.

"I think you'll be busy," she reached up to give him a hug goodbye.

He kept his arms around her when she let go. "I'd rather take you home," he whispered in her ear.

She gave him a friendly push away. "You promised you'd try," she said shakily. She did not like the affect he had on her. She felt a little weak in the knees when he held her.

Strangely, Sebastian's eyes grew bright at her words. "Ok, Clary," he answered. "You're right. That was part of our agreement." He turned to Raphael then, "Take care of her. Make sure she gets home safe." There was a warning in the look he gave Raphael and then his eyes sought hers in one last long gaze before he turned back to the two girls. They both immediately perked up seeing him heading towards them. Clary wondered who Sebastian would end up with and then chided herself. It didn't matter. She hoped he'd be happy.

"Sheesh," Raphael muttered. "First your brother, then Jace, now Sebastian. Do you think you might ever take a break from your six feet goon protectors?"

Clary laughed. "You're right. It's no wonder I have a height complex. I need some shorter friends. At least a few who are less than a foot taller than me. I'm tired of feeling like a Lilliput person."

"Or a munchkin," Raphael suggested then laughed with her. "Listen, I'm only 5'9" so I think I fit the bill." He pulled his elbow out and she reach over to put her arm through it.

"Hi ho, let's go," she said cheerfully and they strolled out of the theater arm in arm.

She didn't notice Sebastian watched them walk out, his eyes glued to their retreating figures.

"What's wrong, Sebastian?" asked one of the girls. She pressed herself against his arm.

Audrey or Denise, Taylor or Ashley, he couldn't remember her name or for that matter … any of them. They were all interchangeable but he didn't want to be alone tonight. Not after everything that happened today. He had actually told her he loved her. He had never said that to any girl. He had always believed that once he was finally able to say those words to a girl it would be an amazing moment. At the very least, she would return his feelings and they would be … happy. Once he found love and admitted to it he had been certain it would mark a new chapter in his life. He had thought he had known love before but she was a distant bittersweet memory now. And he never told her how he felt. He toyed with her, pretended at love the way he saw his own parents pretend at love, a union of convenience. But when he learned she was dying, something changed. Every moment together had felt charged in a ways he had never felt before. He convinced himself it was love but was never able to say the words and in the end he hid from her. Only now he realized that was not love. Love made you brave. It gave you strength to face things and do things that you had never believed you could do before. He didn't know how he told her he loved her. He didn't know how he kept himself off her. He wanted to hold her, touch her so badly but he knew she wouldn't want that … not now and somehow he could do it. He could be who she needed him to be and then he knew. He loved her and he wanted her to know it.

Even now, he wouldn't take it back. He had not gotten the response he wanted. That hurt like hell but she said she loved him and he knew, even if she didn't, that it could be more. Without Jace, she would be his. He could see it and he could tell she could see it too. He wasn't used to running second to anyone. Not in any way that mattered. Sure, girls had preferred Jonathan over him before but if wanted any of them it was always easy, too easy, to get what he wanted.

And then Jace came along and the collective female consciousness went nuts over him but he knew it was mostly the novelty that had them all agog. He could still have anyone he wanted but … suddenly she showed up. He had always been aware of her. In her dreary, shapeless clothes, her messy red hair flying everywhere on top of her head. Those awkward glasses, always smudged and tilted on her face. He had never thought about it much but he couldn't help noticing her whenever she was around. He enjoyed teasing her, making her porcelain skin flush red and bringing the lightning sparks out of her green eyes. He had also noticed Jonathan watch their interactions intently and he knew if he ever laid a finger on her Jonathan would break it, both hands and his face. He was careful to never let his real interest in her show and it wasn't as if he obsessed over it or anything. When she wasn't in front of him, he hardly thought about her. What was there to think about, really? Just a tiny girl buried under a mass of oversized sweats, baggy jeans, flannel for God's sake. Probably hiding some hideous deformity or at the very least a few extra unseemly pounds … although his exacting eyes could not detect any extra weight on the soft lines of her face or the narrow circle of her wrists or ankles. Sometimes she pushed up her sleeves, revealing her forearms, slim and perfectly formed, a sinewy strength evident in the muscles of those arms and he always wondered why she was hiding underneath this disguise. He began to understand that it was a disguise and he found this intriguing. He also began to see that Raphael had also taken an interest in her but Raphael was not so careful about hiding this the way Sebastian did. He would just turn his whole body to face her and observed her without a second thought. Of course, Jonathan caught onto this as well. This was at the end of his Junior year, before Jace entered the scene and after practice one day, Jonathan confronted Raphael in the locker room. It was not a loud conversation but Sebastian listened closely and heard every word.

"Why are you looking at my sister?" Jonathan growled at him.

Sebastian couldn't see them but he could hear Raphael's feet shuffle back uncomfortably.

"There is something special about her. You must know that," Raphael answered lightly.

"What do you want from her?" Joanthan's voice was hard and interrogative.

"Nothing. I only appreciate a blooming flower. You have nothing to worry about, my friend. You know I am a gentleman. She is too young, anyway," Raphael said in a soothing tone.

"She's your age," Jonathan spoke coldly.

"Yes, but she's not ready for men," Raphael answered. "I am not blind to that."

Jonathan did not answer right away and Sebastian could tell he was considering Raphael. Finally he spoke, "Just watch yourself. That's my little sister and anyone who hurts her will be sorry they were born." Jonathan spoke these words loud and clear, certainly too loud just for Raphael's ears.

Sebastian watched the other players around him roll their eyes. The general consensus among the guys was that Jonathan's little sister was a drab little thing, not worth a second glance. But Sebastian had always found her interesting and even dated her best friend, Isabelle.

Now that was a pair you'd never put together. The two appeared to be polar opposites. Isabelle was tall and sleek, showed off ripe figure in tight clothes and the latest fashions. She was dynamic and spoke her mind. Long, straight black hair, dark brown eyes, she was beautiful and Sebastian knew plenty of guys who wanted to date her but were too intimidated to approach her. She had her own reputation as a heartbreaker. As lovely as she was, she was not his type. He couldn't really say how or why but he could tell she was used to calling the shots and controlling her relationships. He knew they would probably have fun for a while but most likely end up hating each other and even though he went through girls at a rapid pace he didn't like to end things bitterly. He preferred to keep his options open, maybe even go back for seconds when he was bored and just plain didn't want to start some Sebastian haters club. Inevitably, some of his flings and the rare relationships (recurring dates that lasted longer than two weeks) ended in tears but he always felt he finessed these partings as amicably as possible. He got them to understand that it was really the best thing for both of them and hey, they both had a good time while it lasted. It was a win win … but he could tell just by looking at Isabelle that would not be possible with her. He would have easily shelved any ideas of dating her once he came to this conclusion except she was always with Clary and Sebastian knew dating Isabelle would give him an acceptable access to her. He could hang around her without attracting undue notice. He had no idea why that should be appealing but it was and he didn't give it much thought. He was used to doing whatever he felt like doing and he felt like playing with Isabelle and playing with her friend.

It was just like he thought. Isabelle was fun, a great kisser, but she clearly set boundaries and was not ready to trust him too quickly. It would take time, more than two weeks, to get into her pants but that … was no so important. He was surprised and that didn't happen. He was never caught off guard … but Clary … she didn't like him. That much was obvious from the way she looked at him, how her little nose screwed up at the sight of him and then quickly turning her bright green eyes away from him. He found himself looking forward to poking fun at her, her potato sack clothing, her fiery red curls or her tiny stature. He liked to see the rise he could get out of her and when she retaliated with her own withering responses … he was … entertained … he wanted more. It was really very odd and more than a little troubling.

She lobbed jabs at his conceit and tried to get under his skin wondering if his hair was thinning or perhaps he wasn't getting enough oxygen to his head … what with all the tight clothing, the jeans, the body fitting shirts. This only made him laugh and he was delighted when he pointed out she must be enjoying the view to notice what he was wearing and she blushed furiously. But after a month of these playful repartees she made herself scarcer than usual. He knew her usual hang out spots with Izzy but she just … disappeared. When he asked Izzy what happened to her little red headed puppet, she gave him a chiding look but admitted Clary didn't approve of him and didn't want to cause a rift between them knowing how much Izzy liked him.

Sebastian did not know how to handle this news. He liked Izzy. She had a rocking body. Their date night make outs grew increasingly heated and he could tell it wouldn't be much longer before she gave it up but for some confounding reason he didn't want to do it. He'd have his tongue down her throat, his hands groping her full breasts when suddenly an image of that little pixie would pop into his head and … it was just over. It goaded him further when he began to find fault with Izzy's features. Why the hell was she so tall? Why was her hair so stick straight and so … black? He knew these critiques were ridiculous and he knew there were dozens of guys who would gladly take his place. Still he found his eyes wandering away from her and when he spotted a pretty little thing with a mass of untamed curls he couldn't help flashing a wink and a smile. He knew Izzy would notice and it played out just as he expected. Things came to a head in an unfortunately loud spectacle at the Cineplex and they were through. He was relieved it ended and he was actually glad they hadn't had sex. He didn't want to think about why. He just knew that if they had gone that far … a door would have closed. And just as he was beginning to come to terms with what that meant, Jace arrived and suddenly Clary wasn't hiding anymore.

A flash of heat ran through his body at the memory, that first day he saw her with her red hair down, long and loose, but the curls would not be tamed and formed a thick wave down her back. She actually wore clothes that made it clear she had nothing to hide and her eyes shone so bright and so green without those god awful glasses, she was blinding. But he was no fool. She awakened something in him that he did not believe existed but he saw the way she watched Jace, the way she tried to subtly trail after him and … he hated him. That might have lasted all of a week before Jace made his move and it became an obsession, watching the two of them. For some reason, she seemed to spurn him and incredibly she agreed to a date with Raphael. He had been so caught up in a mental rivalry with Jace that he had completely discounted and ignored Raphael who followed her around like a lost puppy. He was flat out stunned when he heard Raphael tell one of the other players in the locker room that he had asked her out and she said yes. He didn't realize that his feet moved until he came face to face with Raphael and the words involuntarily spilled out.

"Back off," he said in an alien tone.

To say Raphael was surprised would be a gross understatement. His eyebrows shot up and then gradually lowered until they knit together. He was angry. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. She's not for you." There was a loud humming in his head that only grew louder as he stared into Raphael's eyes and recognized a shared desire in them that only one of them could realize.

Raphael came closer to him and every muscle in his body stiffened. Sebastian knew this would probably end in blows and he was looking forward to it. He'd make sure it would be physically impossible for Raphael to make any dates for a long time.

But then Jonathan came between them, shoved them both away and angrily carried on about what a mess the team was, that he would singlehandedly massacre anyone who spoiled their chances at winning the championship this year and for that matter, where the hell did Jace go? Why the fuck wasn't he at practice today? It went on and on. It would have been preferable to get reamed out by Coach. Honestly, Coach seemed to care less about the season than Jonathan.

And later, when everyone had left, he discovered Jonathan waiting for him, leaning on his car.

"Hey man, what's up?" he greeted Jonathan but knew this was trouble.

Jonathan straightened and met his eyes with a steely and unwavering look.

"What was that? You and Raphael? In the locker room?" Jonathan asked him.

Sebastian was weighing the words in his head and measuring the look in Jonathan's eyes and he knew he couldn't outright lie. Jonathan already knew exactly what that was about and now he had to defuse the situation. It was one thing to fight with Raphael. Fighting with Jonathan would only … hurt his chances? The whole thing was a goddamn mess. He was bewildered by the state of his own mind and these new desires that were growing in him.

"Your sister. I think she can do better," he answered.

Jonathan's eyebrows lifted with surprise. He had evidently expected a different response. Possibly a smooth lie or a crass dismissal and then his face turned deadly serious again. "Oh yeah? With who? You?" he asked disbelievingly.

Sebastian shrugged. "I'm not so bad."

Jonathan slowly shook his head. "No, I had to steer her away from Jace. You think I did that so she can get her heart ripped apart by you?"

Sebastian felt a rush of gratitude and actually wanted to give Jonathan a hug. So now he knew why she turned away from Jace after mooning over him for a week. He didn't know what Jonathan had told her but whatever it was, Jonathan was a great guy.

"Why the hell are you smiling?" Jonathan asked him, clearly puzzled by Sebastian's reaction.

"Listen, man," Sebastian explained quickly. "You are totally right to protect your sister. And she's a lucky girl to have such a caring brother. I want you to know I would never … fool around with her. She deserves more than that and if she ever gives me the chance to show her she'll never have a reason to regret it."

Jonathan's mouth fell open. The defensive caution slowly returned to his face and his posture and he finally replied, "Just stay away from her, Sebastian. You're my friend, but that's my sister and I love her. Besides, she can't stand you."

He was jolted out of his reminiscing and the sinking feeling that came over him from Jonathan's words with the perfumed scent and press of female flesh against the side of his body.

"So … do you want to get out of here? Somewhere a little more private?" she twirled a strand of honey blonde hair around a finger and looked up at him with a promising expression. "It's just you and me now," she smiled at him. "Candice left with Stacey. She could tell you like me better, right?"

Sebastian had no idea what her name was and realized it didn't matter. It came to him in a brand new, unexperienced burst of clarity. It was funny how he had gone through so many untrodden and unknown things in the past year. But of course he knew why and that only solidified his resolve.

"Sorry, I just remembered something urgent I have to take care of," he smiled at her charmingly and thought about the folded paper he had placed in the back of the drawer in his desk at home. "Gotta get out of here."

She pouted, disappointment obvious on her face. "Well, can you take me home. You know my ride left …"

Sebastian was tempted to say no but shook it off. He couldn't let it get around that he was refusing girls, not until he had the only girl he really wanted. "Sure," his answering smile didn't feel right. Once again, he was reminded of how much he had changed.


	19. Chapter 19 Hot

They arrived back at her home quickly. She was surprised at how fast the time had passed. They had a lot to talk about, so much had happened since they last spoke and it felt really good to be in his company, a friendly and relaxed atmosphere between them. It was so different from the oppressive cloud that hung over the time she spent with Sebastian. He was great. She knew she would be in a pretty miserable state without him to … distract her … but even before today, before the declarations between them, there was always that lingering sense that their relationship was teetering precariously, on the verge of falling into a dangerous precipice, something she definitely did not want.

Raphael stopped in front her home and turned to face her. There was a bright glow on his face and she couldn't help smiling back at him.

"You don't have to walk me out or anything," she said jokingly, a little surprised that he turned off the engine.

"I don't mind," Raphael told her. "I was instructed to make sure you get home safe and I fully intend to make certain of it."

Clary shook her head appreciatively. "You are the consummate gentleman. Through and through," she smiled at him and then opened the door, getting out of his car.

"You should wait for me to open the door. That's what any self-respecting gentleman would do." He ran around to join her.

She teased him about all the lurking dangers behind her aunt's hedge groves when she suddenly realized they were not alone. There was a figure hidden in the shadows sitting on the porch. She might have been scared for a split second before an electrifying thrill went through her body and she ran to the shadowed form without another thought.

As soon as she had her arms around him, a blissful happiness spread over her. The gaping hole in her heart, something she had not fully registered in her constant attempt to carry on with life as best as she could, filled up and was whole again. She clung onto him as if her life depended on it and then turned her lips to his face, covering it with kisses. She had enough awareness to remember Raphael was somewhere behind her and would not lose herself completely as she knew she would as soon as her lips met his lips.

"Jace! You're here! I love you!" she exulted not thinking about how he might react to these words the way she normally would.

But he only held her as tightly as she held him. She thought he must have missed her almost as much as she missed him since he didn't even slightly stiffen at her words. His hands traveled up and down her body but always kept her in a secure hold. He couldn't hold her hard enough to satisfy her. All she wanted was to be in his arms forever.

"I missed you," Jace said softly.

Tears sprung from her eyes. She tried to hold them back but they could not be contained. She was too happy. "I can't believe you're here. Why didn't you tell me?"

She felt his warm sweet breath at her neck and she shivered with pleasure.

"I didn't really think about it. I just got up and left," he answered quietly.

She heard Raphael clear his throat in the background and she recollected herself. She was straddled on top of him and she moved a leg over so she remained perched on his lap but not quite so indecorously planted over him. She felt his grip tighten around her and she let out a contented sigh.

"I was watching Night Slayer with some friends. Raphael was kind enough to take me home." She rested her head against his chest and she let the heavenly smell of him, a clean citrusy scent that was completely masculine but brought to mind the basking caress of a perfectly sunny day, surround her.

"Uh … yeah. I guess you're … safe. I'll take off now," Raphael's voice sounded far away and a little strange … but it was hard to tell. She could barely comprehend anything but Jace, here, wrapped in his wonderful arms, feeling his sublimely molded body, the connection between back in full force. It was something that went beyond the physical and she let herself collapse into him. She needed him. She needed to have him.

"Thanks, Raphael. I'll see you soon … at school," she managed to find the words and then she finally lifted her mouth to meet his and nothing else mattered.

Their lips smashed into each other, their tongues lapping, drinking the other in. They didn't have to say anything. He knew exactly what she needed and lifted her easily in his arms, brought her into the house and carried her into her room, never disconnecting their mouths. And they were frantically removing their clothing, hands all over every part of their bodies. It felt so good to feel him again. She couldn't tell what he wore, a button down or a pullover shirt, jeans or slacks. She could feel her fingers gliding over fabric, buttons, zippers with a single minded determination that it all had to come off and suddenly she realized they were both bare naked. There wasn't anything between them. The feel of his hard flesh above her, pressed against her more yielding softness.

"Oh God," he groaned. "I can't wait."

He gripped his rock hard cock and easily parted the lips of her wet entrance with its head. He thrust in, sinking his shaft deep into her tight, cushiony folds, drenched with anticipation.

"You are so tight," he grunted and bucked in her while her hands grabbed his firm muscled ass and pulled it violently into her.

"Is it too tight?" she whispered. "Does it hurt you?"

Their mouths slammed into one another, sucking and tangling tongues, circling each other's mouths at the same fervent pace that his cock slid in and out of her pussy.

"Hell, no," he answered between pants. "I'm feeling the complete opposite of any pain."

"Oh my God!" she was brimming with the coiled tension that was swiftly rising up with each rapid stroke as he rubbed expertly at her core. "I'm coming, Jace."

He responded by pumping into her furiously and the spurting slick wetness that accompanied the throbbing walls of her chamber threw him over the edge. The thick hot liquid gushed out of him and the release had them both shaking with hands clawing at each other, unwilling to loosen their hold. He gradually relaxed and was about to roll off her, concerned that she may be bothered by the weight of him but she held onto him determinedly so he could only succumb and lay on top of her, his still enlarged organ inside her, deep between her dripping thighs.

"Ready for Round Two?" he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, Jace," she sighed and pushed her pelvis into his, using the muscles between her legs to tug at his rising erection. "I can never get enough of you."

"And I can stay inside you forever," he started moving again, slowing this time, dipping his cock in and out of her slick slit, the desperate need for her sated but by no means ready to rest.

"We have to keep it down," she said quietly. "You know my aunt still lives here."

"Okay," he sucked hungrily at her neck, gently kneading her breasts using his thumbs to lightly brush and then pinch the pointed nipples, moving in and out of her. "Just one more time and then we'll go to our place."

"We're not getting any sleep tonight, are we?" she stated and then moaned. His hard thick cock filled her completely, swaying back and forth perfectly against her g-spot.

"Well, we have a lot of time to make up for," he groaned. "I know I need to come at least a dozen times before we can take a break."

Her hips rose up and down, following the movements of his engorged member.

"I missed you so much," the words came out of her mouth, garbled, between pants. "I need you inside me … all the time."

Jace was propped up, using his elbows to keep the sweat slickened upper half of his body a few inches over hers, the bottom half grinding into the opening in her lower body at a steady but building pace.

"I know baby," his voice was low and guttural. "You need it several hours, every day." He lifted his head, the strain of holding himself back evident on his face.

"God," he gushed out. "I don't know how you do this to me. Every time … I can't control myself."

She brought her hands around his neck and forced his lips down over hers while they continued to match thrusts, the feel of his stiff cock buried inside her drawing heaving shudders from her breath and quivers between her legs. She felt everything, her senses so heightened that she could swear she could feel the air vibrating around them. He was all taut and tense muscles, damp from his sweaty exertions. He tasted divine, his musky scent infused with a minty sweet yet salty richness that had her diving her tongue into his mouth to lap up the flavor. Her fingers traveled up behind him, gripping the silky golden curls on the back of his head. Everything about him was an intoxicating turn on. Surely, some small part of the explosive passion between them should have toned down a little after a year together. Not that she was complaining or had much brain capacity to ponder it when they were together but the depth of her feeling and the constant need for him gave her the obvious answer. This crazy passion, this insatiable lusty desire and more than all that, this all encompassing, consuming love, only grew stronger with each passing day.

"I love you, Jace. I love you so much. You're everything to me," she cried out.

His long, hard member continued its pounding pace, burying itself in her tensing pussy, the soft weeping walls beginning its pulsing contractions. She reached up to bite his neck, desperately trying to quiet the uncontrollable cries of ecstasy that she fought to contain. The slapping sounds of his firm flesh meeting her thighs and the creaking of the mattress springs beneath them dominated her senses. His breathing grew loud and erratic. His cock pummeled into her while she used the muscles inside her tunnel to latch onto his cock, trying to prolong the squeezing convulsions that had her eyes rolling back until the thick creamy liquid shooting out of its head filled her to such an overflowing state that she could no longer grip onto the wetly sliding cock. The loud sounds he emitted from his release and her own mewls of pleasure filled the air along with the unmistakable scent of hot sex, his thoroughly drenched cock spilling the last few spurts of his seed deep inside her cavern.

"Say you love me," she pleaded. "I just need to hear it once in a while." She hadn't meant to say it but it was true. Almost as hungry to hear the words as she was starved for his body, they came out without any premeditation.

He was still above her, inside her, but she felt his body freeze. She cringed when she realized he had nothing to say and she kept her eyes shut when she turned her face away.

"Look at me, Clary," he whispered.

There was something in his voice that she hadn't expected to hear, something different. She slowly opened her eyes and moved her head to face his, looming directly above her.

"I more than love you. There are no words that can express what I feel for you. You own me. I'm yours forever," his golden eyes were bright when they held hers in an intense gaze.

She felt as if the heat of his gaze had her melting, all her fears and insecurities chased away, and now only her true essence, her soul, remained, a crystal clear deep lake completely joined and commingled with her partner's liquid force. There was no possibility of parting from him now. He was a part of her. She was infused with him. Even if he could not physically be with her, she knew with an indisputable certainty she could never extricate him from who she was.

"And you're a part of me," she answered, never taking her eyes off him. "There is no me without you."

She reached up, placing her lips gently over his and they molded perfectly to one another. It was like that first magical kiss that left her dizzy in the movie theater and he was all there was. His lips, his mouth, his breath, so soft and plush and formed to match her own lips.

She began to feel the familiar stirring between her legs and she realized he was still inside her, half his fully aroused size, but rapidly growing erect again. She reluctantly pulled back and detached herself.

"No," he mouthed with his lips still over hers, his enlarged cock repositioning over her entrance.

"Jace!" she tried to sound rebuking but her own body fought against her will, eager to give him full access. "We can't stay here! Do you want my Aunt to walk in on us?"

"Just one more time, baby. Then we'll go. I promise. I can't walk around like this," he begged and there was really no way she could refuse. His cock was already half way inside her and her body naturally responded, her legs spread wide apart, her back arched up to take him in fully.

"I don't know how you have anything left inside you," she murmured.

"It's you. I can't stop wanting you. You can make me come endlessly," he groaned lustily.

She started to laugh but it turned into a sensuous gasp midway. "You have a perfect cock. It touches all the right spots. Oh God, I think I'm coming already."

"How about we're perfect for each other," he whispered. "You were made for me." His hands reached down and cupped the cheeks of her ass. "This was made for me." His voice was low and husky.

His thumbs moved up to glide around the seam of wet flesh between her swollen pussy lips and his throbbing hard cock and his touch there, yet another sensory confirmation of their perfectly matched connection, had her coming apart. She wrapped her legs tightly around him while her juices squirted out and then let out a long supremely contented sigh when she felt him shooting his come, refilling her well with his semen. She drowsily wondered, not for the first time, how much semen he could possibly produce and unload in her in such quick succession, although she knew whatever that amount was, she would always welcome more.

She knew she could pass out now from sheer fatigue and she also knew if she slept she would probably be awakened with another orgasm. No, no, they had to get out of here. Aunt Hodge woke up at the crack of dawn and there was no way they could remain undetected once she was up and around.

"I should really wash up," she groused. "I'm going to have your come dripping out of me for a while." She squirmed a little feeling the creamy liquid already seeping out of her tender hole when she sat up.

Jace followed her lead and sat up slowly, then swiftly grabbed her and enfolded her in his arms, so that they both lay back on the bed, her back against his chest.

"If I had my way, you'd feel that way constantly," he whispered into her ear, then nibbled on it.

She nuzzled against him, relishing the feel of his firm, hard body pressed behind her.

"You are completely insatiable," she answered rubbing her rounded ass against his spent member.

She felt it perk up and he unsnaked an arm from around her waist to trail his fingers lightly down the tips of her breasts to her stomach then above her damp triangle of curls and back up again. She abruptly twisted around to face him when she caught herself opening her legs apart and then pulled herself up to face him and force a less convenient distance between her opening and his evidently reanimating rod.

"Wow. That little thing is flooded," he smiled at her, indicating the slick wet streak she unknowingly left on his exquisitely formed abs when she pressed against him.

He slipped two fingers in easily. She gasped with surprise but managed to say chokingly, "Please stop, Jace. We can't stay here."

He pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his mouth, never breaking eye contact as he sucked on them.

"Did you just seriously do that?" she asked.

"I can lick you clean if you'd like," he offered.

Clary felt her cheeks growing hot. "We've never done that before," she said.

Their rapacious sex life pretty much entirely consisted of his cock inside her and since that always involved a series of orgasms that ended with them both thoroughly exhausted and unconscious, they had never ventured beyond that. Clary had never given it much thought since she was completely satisfied and let's face it, she was addicted to his penis, but she was also pretty certain any other sexual experimentation with Jace would be incredible.

"Am I boring you?" It occurred to her that Jace had probably done it all before he met her and maybe he was getting tired of doing the same thing with her over and over again. Maybe he needed a little variety? Something different?

He gave her a baffled look. "What are you talking about?"

"Well … it's always just straight sex with us and … maybe you want to do something else?" she questioned.

Jace smirked at her, "Baby, as long as I get to put my hands on you and come inside you, it's absolute heaven. Why do you think I never want to stop?"

"Because you're a sex god," she answered with a straight face.

"I promise you, what we have, it's … a once in a lifetime … forever entwined … perfect mate thing." His stare was hypnotizing. "I've never known this … insane kind of want or felt anything this spectacularly amazing with anyone else. You've taught me what it is to make love. Since we've been together that's all I know and all I want to know and I could never get bored with it."

"Oh Jace," she sighed. "I just love you so much. I don't want you to miss anything because of me, because of my … lack of experience."

"I'm pretty sure you've had plenty of experience at this point," he laughed, "and it would kill me if anyone else ever touched you this way." His face turned dark. "Even if it was before we met. I don't think I could handle it if you weren't a virgin when I had you, if I knew someone else had been inside you."

She grew thoughtful at his words. She knew he was very possessive about her but really? Even before they had ever met? It didn't matter, she supposed. There was no one else she could ever want compared to Jace and the slight twinge of concern she felt was easily overwhelmed by the happiness that surged over her hearing Jace declare they were eternally bound to one another. It was exactly what she had always wanted to hear but had been too afraid to ask him. Surely if he described them as 'forever entwined' he was in it for the long haul. She kissed the hard muscles on his chest.

"We're leaving now, okay?" she urged him.

"Yes. But you know we're not sleeping when we get to our house," his voice was muffled as he buried his face into her hair.

"Of course I know that," she answered.


	20. Chapter 20 Start With Him

**Have hit my crazy busy season at work but still writing. Hope someone's still reading! I'm a sappy person and used to be soap opera fan so ... expect soap opera type drama.**

About a Year Ago …

He woke up earlier than normal, especially for a summer day, before the start of school. Another week before his Senior year at Alicante High School and much to his grandmother's chagrin, a public school. But it was highly ranked academically and the football team was top notch. They had just missed the State Championship last season and after meeting the captain and joining their football camp over the summer, Jace was confident they would get the win in the upcoming season. He hadn't actually expected to go to Alicante this year. Grandmother had been quite set about sending him to Leman, a boarding school in Manhattan. He had been attending Xavier's, her alma mater and therefore a trustworthy institution that would mold him into a model heir. She did not send him to Crestman Fields, the most expensive and exclusive private school in town. She had not been pleased with the notions her son, his father, had developed after his years there. He had not minded Xavier's. Their uniforms weren't great, a muddy forest green tie and blazer, but the students came from a diverse background and were just normal kids. Not the pretentious, status consumed crowd that his grandmother usually foisted on him She had not been so keen when she realized Xavier's student body was not quite the same as it was from her time and Jace suspected she withdrew some generous contributions which ultimately led to the school's closure. But, he wasn't the type to linger on the past and he was looking forward to a new environment, new people, new girls.

Girls were fun. They were a nice distraction and a good way to release some pent up energy and frustration. He had to be perfect. He had to stay controlled. That was something Grandmother always expounded. Sometimes it just got so tiring. So it helped. Being with a girl for a random moment, temporarily forgetting all the expectations, who he was, who he was supposed to be. He wanted to be the man his grandmother envisioned, the man his father was supposed to be, but sometimes he would look at that picture she had let him keep, the one with his father and mother holding each other, looking at each other with so much doomed love, and he'd have an aberrant thought. He did his best to push it away as swiftly as it popped into his head but he couldn't help thinking they wouldn't have regretted their tragic love. He wasn't sure where these thoughts came from. It wasn't as if he ever felt any romantic inklings toward a girl. The only person he could ever decisively say he loved had been his grandfather.

He was the one constant source of acceptance and affection during his earliest formative years. He was not an overtly affectionate man but there was a kindness in his eyes when he looked at Jace. He taught Jace to read and write. He would sit by his bed when he was sick or when he couldn't sleep from nightmares. Nightmares about unknown people; a strong proud man gunned down and torn from all that he loved and a beautiful golden eyed woman who wasted away from heartbreak. Nightmares that stemmed from the cautionary tales his grandmother shared with him. Jace had grown to depend on his encouragement and steady support and then one day he disappeared and never returned. It wasn't until much later, after more than a year had passed, that his grandmother explained his grandfather had died. He hadn't known why his grandfather had left. He often wondered if he had done something wrong. Had he driven him away? Did all his faults, the weakness his grandmother detected in him, make the old man sick? Had he finally had enough of Jace's neediness? He could not ask his grandmother. He knew she would detest his questions.

Sometimes he would turn to her and catch her watching him, a coldness in her eyes that made him wonder why she kept him. He knew he would never measure up to the man she had dreamed his father would become. One time she even told him he looked so much like his mother and that it made her sick. But she was all he had left and he wanted to please her. He wanted her to be proud, to finally find some reason to be thankful for what was produced from the union between his father and mother.

The only other person that ever meant anything to him was Alex. She was his best friend. He had mistaken her for a boy at first, the way she moved on the basketball court, clearly dominating the game. Plus, she was the tallest kid there. When he realized his mistake, that Alex was a girl, it didn't matter. He respected the way she played, the way she brushed off the cruel teasing and just lost herself to the game. He never saw Alex as a girl. He saw her as a worthy opponent and then someone who he could talk to and then someone who caught glimpses of his true self. Finally, Alex became a friend, a person he could trust when he had believed you could trust nobody.

He had made plans to meet Jonathan, the football captain of the Alicante Shadowhunters, at the football field. They were both perfectionists and agreed to spend any extra time coordinating their plays. They already worked really well together. That was evident from the start but they could be unstoppable once they had fully learned to read each other, something that would undoubtedly come from extra practice.

Jace liked Jonathan. He admired Jonathan's drive and focused ambition. Jonathan worked hard. He had a job at Bat's Gym and by all accounts was an A student and the heart and soul of the school's most successful football team in its history. It was obvious the other players on the team looked up to him and respected him as their leader. Jace thought they were well on their way to becoming good friends and he was glad. It was rare for him to find a connection with people. He knew that was mostly his own doing. He kept his distance from people. He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't reminded to keep a wary eye on everyone he encountered, even the privileged society his grandmother approved for his company. They all wanted something and he could never allow anyone to have a hold over him. Because that's what people do. It's use or be used. And as a Herondale, it was his duty to be the one on top. He always had to be better. He could never get complacent or be satisfied with what he had. The only way to stay on top was to constantly keep climbing, never stop reaching for the next level up.

Grandmother treated any awards or accolades he received as commonplace and expected achievements. He learned not to assign any importance to this type of recognition from his teachers or his peers. But if he ever put himself in a position to be compared to others, nothing less than first place was acceptable.

This was all a normal and customary aspect of his life and he usually didn't give it a second thought but sometimes, especially after he learned Xavier's was closing and Grandmother began making arrangements at the boarding school, he felt as if the walls around him were converging and cornering him. He began to feel as if he couldn't breathe and would take long solitary runs or walks around town until one day he came across the Alicante High School and observed another solitary figure running up and down the field and there was something about this person that captured his interest. Here was a person who knew exactly what he wanted and would not be deterred. Here was a boy, a man, his grandmother would approve, someone who would accomplish whatever he set out to do.

He moved closer unconsciously and then recognized this person. It was Jonathan Fairchild. He had been in the local papers, heralded as a football star and generally destined for great things. Grandmother had even noticed the news article and remarked at this fine looking male specimen. Jace had been about to turn away and continue his run when Jonathan came up to him and asked him if he played, he looked like he played; if he'd help him practice with some throws. And that was that. He agreed to take some turns with Jonathan and both discovered they played well together, extremely well. Jonathan had been delighted to learn Jace would be attending a new school for his Senior year and urged Jace to join him at Alicante High. His enthusiasm to have Jace on the team was infectious and it felt right when Jonathan declared they would be an unstoppable force together. At the very least he must join the camp and see what the team could do for himself. Jace remained noncommittal but agreed to camp. He had nothing better to do and he was frankly excited at the prospect of a new venture, something completely different and unknown and he found he genuinely liked Jonathan. It was obvious what Jonathan wanted from Jace it did not make Jace feel defensive. Jonathan was not interested in his family name, the money he came from and what he could get from Jace other than combining Jace's talents with his own to create something bigger and better than what they could individually accomplish.

It had been a hard, hot summer but he couldn't remember a better one. His grandmother did not care when he told her he was joining a football camp. As long as he showed up when and where she directed and acted the part of a perfectly poised and polished grandson and heir she did not concern herself with his exploits. But of course he knew better than to ever do anything that might publicly embarrass her. That was a given but he was hardly interested in entangling himself in anything that might hold him back anyway. He was all for moving forward, getting out from under his grandmother's yolk. He had every intention of heading up the family business, become the man his grandfather would have wanted, according to his grandmother. He couldn't remember that his grandfather ever explicitly made his aspirations for Jace known but his grandmother was so certain and vehement about it, he could not object. And he kept hoping something, anything, he did would finally meet with her approval. Receiving first in class honors, MVP awards from the Xavier football and basketball teams, countless plaques, honors and certificates for his performance in debates, written essays, published journals; none of that was ever met with more than a curt nod and open hands. She insisted on keeping all of them. Jace did not know what she did with them. At first he thought she perhaps kept them in some treasured place of honor, to look over proudly at her leisure. Now, he thought it was more likely that she just threw them away.

He felt relieved this would be his last year of high school. He knew things would be different once he reached college. He could sense he was on the verge of something big, something life changing. And it all started on that day he met Jonathan. As the summer days passed, he came to the decision he would stay. He had never countered his grandmother's plans for him before and honestly did not know how she would react when he told her he would spend his Senior year at the local public high school. At least she was not prone to hysterics, but it was clear from the way her face whitened and her mouth uncharacteristically dropped open, this was the last thing she expected and she made it quite evident from several ensuing conversations she was vastly displeased. But he would not budge even when a part of him questioned his own actions. He wondered if he was just finally asserting some of the teenage rebelliousness that had never risen up in him before but it didn't feel like it. That just didn't ring true. There was just this feeling, this pull that grew stronger and stronger that he had to stay and he had to be where Jonathan was. He almost worried what that meant but he knew himself well enough to know there was no desire to be anything other than a friend, a brother, to him and when he felt like it, he went out with girls. Or rather, when he had an itch, he scratched it. He thought he might not have whatever it was in a man's makeup to truly care for a girl, in a romantic way. There was an obvious pattern to his sexual interludes. He was tense, stressed about something or another, so he would go out, spot a cute girl, pick her up and release the coiled nerves inside. He could relax again and rarely ever saw a girl again more than a date or two. He learned the hard way not to stick around after sex. Even the girls who claimed to understand there would be no attachments inevitably came back and expressed some claim over him. So he tried to suppress the urges. He didn't hook up with girls more than once or twice a month anymore. He tried to avoid that drama but it felt really good sinking inside a woman's warmth and he always gave his partner a good ride. He never left a girl disappointed over the sex. The problem always was they wanted more, when then only more he was willing to give was possibly another round of fucking in a few months. He never met anyone he wanted to fuck repeatedly. If he could do it without the emotional mess, he'd probably fuck a different girl every night but he could control his dick. He didn't need it every day and besides there were not that many girls around, girls that made his cock stir at least.

Especially since in the past few months, he'd developed some bizarre redhead fixation. And redheads, the natural kind, were not common. He wasn't sure what it was about the color that drew him. He couldn't even say it was beautiful. There was just a sense that this belonged to him and if he could only find the exactly right … something … everything would make sense and somehow or another that red way would be a very distinctive part of it. He didn't spend much time thinking about it. He didn't really want to understand it since just the edges of consciousness over it made him thoroughly uncomfortable. He was fine the way he was. Ok, so he was emotionally closed off, but so what? Why do you need to feel? That only left you vulnerable, a target to be hurt. It was better to feel nothing, just keep going fast and forward, don't let anything slow you down and one day you'll be everything you set out to be and … well … he usually drew a blank there but as long as he could wipe the stern disappointment off his grandmother's face … that was something.

Jace stretched in his tank and shorts. It was time to get out of the house, go for a run and meet Jonathan. And he sure as hell didn't want to run into his grandmother before he got out. He could do without another lecture about how he was wasting his last year of high school.

* * *

"You're an idiot," she slapped him on the back of his head and laughed.

"Just saying … if this basketball thing doesn't work out you could model," Jace smirked at her.

"Yeah," Alex rolled her eyes then stopped suddenly, one hand at the back of her head, the other at a hip swayed out at a striking angle. "I'm just the master of moves," she sashayed and twirled around, her loose oversized jersey flaring out, "on the court and on the catwalk."

"Well," Jace shook his head, "you've got the height and your face isn't bad." Alex actually had a lot of promise, although Jace knew she would never truly consider modeling. She was maybe two or three inches shorter than his 6'2" frame and her face was all clean and classic lines that could rival any of the faces on fashion magazines. He couldn't rightfully say what kind of shape she had under her loose wardrobe (plus, he never really bothered to try to look, it was just weird), but there was no doubt she had to be hard and toned the way she religiously worked at her basketball. She had shoved, slapped and punched him (all in the name of good fun, of course) enough times for him to know the strength she had built up in her body. Jace didn't doubt she would realize her dreams to become a professional basketball player. He supposed this single minded drive that radiated off her was part of what made him want to know her. He found that he had this ability to see people, to see something of their truth. He could see when they were honest and when they were lying, even if they fully believed in the lie, he could see it. Well, at least most people. He couldn't see anything in his grandmother. She had always been a blank wall to him. Perhaps she had no heart to see. He shook his head. He didn't want to fill it with these morbid thoughts. They helped no one, especially not him.

Jace scanned the room. Alex's parents had already left the restaurant. They wanted to visit some friends and left Jace and Alex to make their own way home. Alex's parents adored Jace and had hoped for a long time their friendship would turn into something more but Jace was pretty sure they got it now. That just wasn't happening. Surprisingly, his own grandmother warmed to this idea as well. Surprising, since Alex's family, while comfortable, were not part of the big money, high society echelon that she normally had her sights on for any family "alliances." He supposed it was Alex's father, Robert, who was active in the local government, well respected and acknowledged as a favorite for a congressional spot in the next round of elections. In any case, Grandmother was keen to see Jace and Alex together even though she was clearly aware that Alex wasn't your average girl. She often remarked that marriage only required siring a suitable heir and then husband and wife could lead separate lives, but always with discretion. It wouldn't do to be the subject of clucking tongues, a scandal. That was what separated the classes, according to her, the ability to retain perspective and to always maintain the glamour. Jace had heard enough of her meanderings about potential family mergers, with him positioned as the groom to secure an advantageous match, so that he was not terribly put out by this discussion even if he was only fifteen at the time. He supposed at some point she would insist on some bride for him and since he was incapable of feeling attached to a girl, he figured it didn't much matter who she was as long as she understood they were not actually tied together, that they would lead their own lives and have their own interests to pursue.

"Oh no," he muttered when he spotted a familiar face. One he had last seen a few months ago but one he actively avoided.

Alex turned to see what Jace was looking at. "Uh oh, don't worry, loverboy. I'll save you." She looped an arm around his and sidled up to him possessively.

Jace couldn't help but notice she was all hard muscles, not even a slight indication of feminine curves. He realized he must have reacted to this is some way when she moved her head closer to his and whispered, "I could crush you."

He couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips and knew better than to argue with her on that score. They both watched Seelie Greenleaf a few yards away. She seemed to have just spotted Jace herself and he was somewhat surprised to see an anxious expression cross her face. He was expecting something more calculating and predatory and instead of striding over to accost him she turned and moved quickly to the ladies room.

"Well, that was weird," Alex offered. "But ... she looks good."

"Jace!" another unexpected voice had them both turning to the caller.

"Hey, Jonathan," Jace answered, "can't get enough of you today, it seems."

"Yeah," Jonathan gave him a friendly pat on his shoulder. "Here with the girlfriend. She was just behind me." He turned around and looked a little puzzled. "I guess she'll turn up soon."

Jonathan turned his attention to Alex. "Hi, I'm Jonathan," he introduced himself with a hand extended.

"Jonathan, this is -," Jace began but was promptly cut off when Alex pulled him back and she leaned against him dramatically fluttering her eyelashes.

"I'm Alex, Jace's girlfriend," she then released her grip around Jace's arm and grasped Jonathan's hand with both her own.

Jace couldn't help but laugh and pulled Alex off Jonathan's hand. "Sorry about that. Can't take her anywhere."

"Just can't handle me, too much woman for you," Alex responded and then jabbed him in the arm.

Jonathan's eyes moved between them, confusion written over his face.

"Never mind her, Jonathan," Jace shook his head. "We're heading out now. I'll see you tomorrow?" They had plans to continue their daily practice sessions.

"He's a dog," Alex continued, unwilling to end her game. "Always prowling around for redheads."

"Shut up, stupid," Jace gave her a light shove and then noticed a frown land on Jonathan's face.

"Got a thing for redheads?" Jonathan's voice was strangely grim.

"No," Jace answered swiftly.

"Of course not,"Alex agreed glibly, "He just wants to bang every one of them that crosses his path."

"That's not true, idiot," Jace lamented, a bit worried by Jonathan's deepening scowl.

"You're right. They have to be natural redheads and cute, of course. So you don't see many of those around," Alex laughed. She seemed to be having a lot of fun mocking Jace and seemed utterly oblivious to the darkening shadow on Jonathan's face.

"My sister's a redhead," he said dangerously. "So is my girlfriend."

"Damn," Alex stopped laughing abruptly. "I'm sorry. I'm sure Jace hasn't run into either of them. It's a big world out there." The aghast expression on her face would have been funny under normal circumstances but it suddenly dawned on Jace that Alicante really was not that big and he had probably run into Jonathan's sister or girlfriend and it probably would be best to make sure he didn't run into either of them again if he wanted to stay on good terms with Jonathan. It was clear as day that Jonathan was not happy mulling over the possibility of Jace with his sister or his girlfriend and Jace made quick work on a hasty retreat, towing Alex away with him.

"God, why the hell did you say that?" Jace berated her as they made their way towards his car.

"How was I supposed to know he's surrounded by redheads?" Alex shrugged her shoulders but Jace could tell she felt bad.

"Don't worry about it," Jace patted her back. "I'll just have to stay away from the women in his life. At least I'm forewarned."

"Yeah," Alex agreed, "and if you already have done the do-si-do with either of them, well I'm gonna guess you wouldn't want to be anywhere near them now." She smirked at him.

Jace gave her an exasperated look but it was true. He thought briefly of his two week mistake with Seelie. A setup courtesy of his grandmother and he suffered a momentary lapse of reason. She was beautiful but he was used to that and he had easily managed to keep to his own rules, maintaining a suitable distance from his escorting dates. He absolutely did not want to ever potentially involve his grandmother in any of his dalliances and no matter how attractive these lovely and wealthy young ladies were, he did not find it terribly difficult to keep his hands off them. His downfall in this case was quite simply her hair. He found the color, the way it captured the light and flickered like fire, incredibly erotic, and he couldn't help himself. He seriously considered some therapy after that ordeal, hypnosis maybe, to rid himself of this stupid preoccupation with red hair of all the unexplainable, idiotic things. But that particular shade and color of her hair had … done something to him. He couldn't even explain it to himself let alone attempting to fathom explaining it to a shrink. It was like a shock to his system, as if he had known that exact color intimately and had to bury his face in it. And she was no pushover. No, it took ten days before he charmed her into bed and then almost as soon as he was inside her, he knew he could not stay with her. She was not what he needed. And the worst part was how disappointing that was. He didn't know how or why but somehow he had deluded himself into thinking she was … something he was beginning to get increasingly anxious over … something that was missing from his life … something he had to have if he was ever to … find himself? It was crazy and messed up and immediately after that whole debacle he longed for the days when he didn't want anything but to get the hell out of this pre-adult state he was in, away from the heavy weight of his grandmother's will … and all over her goddamn red hair.

He had been so furious with himself that he actually explained some of this nutty fascination to Alex who of course thought he was losing his shit and decided the best way to handle the situation was to mercilessly tease him over it. Sometimes he couldn't get a break.


	21. Chapter 21 Lightning Strikes

"We've got to show the team that new move we worked on," Jonathan said. His green eyes were animated but Jace could tell he was not quite as enthusiastic about having Jace at the school as he was only a week ago, before they ran into each other at Selene's. Still, they met early, before school started, so Jonathan could give him a full tour of the school grounds and its various wings. He noticed Jonathan looked rather awkward, about to bite off his tongue, when pointed out one of the best hookup spots in the school and gave Jace a cautious look. Jace was resolving himself to a frank but uncomfortable conversation with Jonathan, to reassure him he would gladly stay away from any redheaded women in Jonathan's life when a loud crash of dropping books and a falling body drew Jonathan's attention.

Jace didn't bother to turn, he could tell it was nothing serious, and Jonathan didn't seem much concerned about it either until the air around them was cut clear by the sound of a crystal voice. It exuded a purity and strength that had him swiveling around to investigate its source.

"You stay away from him. He doesn't deserve to be treated this way. He's not a toy to play with," it rang out and his eyes scanned the hall until it rested on the exact shade of red that had him so deplorably transfixed months ago, except this time it was not a sleek and shining mass that moved in one sweeping drape but instead a messy pile of curls gathered on top of a bun that threatened to explode. And this flaming head of hair was the crown on top of a little girl. He could only see the back of her but she was short, easily a foot smaller than him. It took another quick scan up and down her body, well hidden behind an oversized fraying denim shirt and unbecoming baggy jeans to detect she was well formed. He could see it from the hint of hips and only a tight and prime muscled butt could possibly make the impression hers managed in the blaringly unattractive and shapeless jeans she wore.

He couldn't help moving toward her. He had to see this creature, the owner of that damnable hair and the wildness to it only added to its attractions. He wouldn't have guessed that. He had honestly thought Seelie's sleek mane could not be improved but now he knew that was not true. There was something more to her. Something he couldn't describe but the way she stood, straight and determined to defend a hapless victim, he knew she was brave and strong and good and he didn't understand it. He didn't understand why it mattered but it sucked the air out of his lungs.

He was standing next to her now but she didn't notice him, her eyes locked on the boy she berated. Jace peripherally noticed it was Raphael, one of the football players, a good natured fellow and one of the best players on the team. And then he noticed the victim. Well, now this made a little more sense. A fairly large troop of Xavier transfers had arrived together. Jace was not among them but he was pretty sure he saw Simon within the group and it appeared Raphael had volunteered to help with a tour for the new students. Jace knew Simon well enough from their time at Xavier's to easily imagine Simon had probably made some inadvertently grating and offensive remark that brought out the beast in Raphael. Hell, he wanted to knock the dork off his feet every time he mockingly called Jace, "golden boy." But all of that was background noise in his head and hardly took up more than a second of his thoughts. This girl was center stage and when he finally got a good look at her face, everything else seem to blur away. Was she real? Was he real? Was this a dream? This face would haunt him. This face looked like something he might have imagined from a fairy tale, intensely clear emerald green eyes that sparked with spirit, framed by long copper lashes that seemed to change from a translucent blond to an orange auburn as it reflected the light, flawless peaches and cream skin, an adorable button nose with the barest touch of freckles across it and her lips formed a rosebud, perfectly made to be kissed often and repeatedly. He couldn't take his eyes off her. A dizzying rush went through his head. For the first time that he could remember he didn't know how to act. He wanted to say something, make her turn those amazing eyes on him but his mind drew a blank.

"Clary, what is going on?" Jonathan. Jonathan stood directly across from him and seemed almost as absorbed with this … stunning creature as he was. Except he knew her. He called her Clary.

"Nothing. No big deal," Raphael offered. "I'm sorry, Clary. I didn't know the geek was your friend." A thick desire in his voice broke into Jace's reverie and he briefly turned his gaze away from her to observe him. Yes, he saw her too and he wanted her badly … but that couldn't happen. He couldn't let that happen. Goddamn it. Everyone knew her. Of course they knew her. She's not a transfer from Xavier's. There was no way he could have missed her if he had ever laid eyes on her before.

"I'll see you later. I am sorry. Don't be angry," Raphael continued plaintively.

"Well, you should really apologize to … to …" He could happily listen to anything she said. Was he losing his mind?

"Simon. Simon Lewis," the gangly cartoon character cheerfully spoke up.

Oh God, even Simon. Even Simon had it together better than him.

"Yeah, whatever," Raphael barely acknowledged Simon then walked away.

Jace was glad to see him go. He didn't want this obvious rival here. A rival who already had an advantage over him. He knew her.

"That's just rude." Even her griping was cute.

"Like I said. Used to it. But I appreciate your help," Simon responded and finally Jace had a thought. Something to say that would draw her attention but wouldn't come out a desperate plea. Something that would show her Simon was a buffoon, that he was by far worth her notice more than Simon.

"And I can attest to that," he drawled slowly. "I've seen Simon tripping over himself on many occasions."

And then finally … she turned to him. His heart stopped. And now, here, with their bodies turned toward each other, facing each other, he wanted to bend down and kiss her. He needed to kiss her. He couldn't think straight. He worked to mask himself, settling on a tried and true grin. She would probably think he was some deranged psycho if he let these feelings running rampant inside him show on his face. And then the realization that he was actually feeling something … tremendous … for this girl, someone he had only just met, something more than a desire to bed her, had him dumbstruck but fortunately he was very well practiced at keeping a smooth and careless demeanor. Her green eyes locked on his, so wide and so beautiful and then … she trembled.

"Are you cold?" he asked her. Or can you see that I'm crazy infatuated with you?

She only just stared at him and in a moment she stopped shaking and he balled his hands into tight fists. He didn't think he could stop himself. He was going to take her in his arms, pull her hair down and free and kiss those flawless lips.

"Clary, is something wrong?" Jonathan again but now he had his hands on her and turned her away from Jace to face him.

Jace felt a dull fury rise up in his gut. He glared at Jonathan's intimate grip on her shoulders.

I'm fine, Jonathan. I wish you'd stop worrying." And then she turned her head to rest on his chest while he held her to him and Jace knew if he didn't move away, quickly, something bad would go down. He knocked back into Simon and the two of them stepped back together. He thought he might have to turn and run off when she lifted her head and said, "He's my brother."

Yes! He said his sister was a redhead. Why hadn't he remembered that? Somehow everything flew out of his head at the sight of her. Jonathan had been clearly troubled to hear Jace had a thing for redheads as if he must have known Jace would have an inevitable reaction to her and the way he felt looking at her, Jonathan had never been more right. But this … this was different. His mind didn't even go there … to getting her naked. In fact his mind stopped working altogether. He was all impulse. An impulse to touch her, kiss her, hold her. He fought with himself in that split second. He had to be cool. He didn't know what was going on but he couldn't fuck this up. He had never remotely worried over what a girl thought of him, even those redheads he pursued. He wanted them but it never really mattered. He knew he'd have them. There was no concern over it. Even Seelie, throughout that chase, the most challenging one he had yet encountered, he knew he'd get her eventually but this … he didn't know what this was. All he knew was this mattered. His mind scrambled to figure out his next move. How to stay cool and keep her interested. He could feel a smirk pull up his lips. Something that always worked on girls. They told him he had a sexy smile but the answering look she gave him had his heart thudding heavily. She didn't seem to appreciate this smile at all.

"Why are you smiling like that?" she questioned, her green eyes narrowing but there was no dimming the flashing spirit behind them.

God, she was fucking perfect. Even the way her tiny body seemed to tense as if she would spring at him. He started breathing quicker at the thought, imagining her jumping on top of him, having his arms around her and keeping her locked to him. Shit, he had to say something. "You know, you're a little spitfire. I like girls with spirit."

He had never actually known that to be true but he sure as hell liked her and she sure as hell had spirit. The accompanying grin on his face was entirely natural this time so it stung when the expression on her face turned hot then cold.

"What were you saying about Simon? Did you have a hand in him tripping over himself in one of those many occasions you witnessed?" she accused.

It was not working. Nothing he did or said was working. The first time he met a girl that had his heart pounding and his blood racing through his veins and everything he did or said was wrong.

"Clary, what's gotten into you?" Jonathan drew her attention away and it hurt (it hurt!) to have her eyes fixed on him with disapproval but it pained him even more when she moved them away from him.

"This is Jace. He's the new member of the Alicante Shadowhunters. I told you about him." Jonathan spoke to her in a proprietary way then took a pair of large black framed glasses from her hand and placed them over her eyes.

It was a crime to cover those eyes. Even with the clunky glasses on he could completely lose himself in those eyes but they were a smudgy mess, probably hurting her vision more than it was helping and when she looked up at him without them on he felt certain her vision was entirely clear. He could tell when someone's impaired vision hampered their sight, the way their eyes crossed a little or there would be subtle squinting but none of that had appeared on her face and he had the picture of her face, every heart stopping detail, burned in his head.

Now was his chance. Now he had to make her want him. "Just to clear the air, Red. I don't actually find it all that amusing to pick on clumsy nerds. Adorable, hotheaded little girls are much more my thing." He thought he pitched it just right, playful but clear. You are so my type. But maybe that wasn't enough? He settled back into an uncertain grin, uncertain if he had successfully lured her in and this uncertainty was driving him crazy. He felt a madness bubbling up inside him, a heavy tightening in his chest from the way she gazed at him. She didn't say a word for a long moment but every nerve in his body was wired from her stare. He thought he might fall to his knees and just … worship her. This was fucking insane.

And then her shoulders stiffened and she shut her eyes. "Do not call me Red or a little girl. I'm sixteen," she said and then took Simon by the arm. "Come on, Simon. Let me escort you to the cafeteria."

They both lurched away then and she was gone. He didn't know how long he stood there watching her go but nothing registered. Finally they turned a corner down the long hallway and she was out of sight and he felt compelled to follow and … what? What would he do? What would he say?

"Jace?" Jonathan again.

Jace turned to him and he realized Jonathan had the same brilliant green eyes as his sister. They were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen but it was her soul behind those eyes that made them so glorious and had him mesmerized. Wait, what?

"So that was my sister," Jonathan said warily. "As you can see, she's completely innocent. Never been on a date, never even kissed a guy and … she's a tiny redhead, two traits she's not fond of." He chuckled then, "I mean … you couldn't be interested in her even if you do have a thing for redheads. She doesn't know anything about anything. You're probably on her shit list anyway since you called her red and little."

"Wait a minute," Jace foundered. "I'm on her shit list?"

Jonathan looked at him strangely but Jace couldn't think about anything except her. "Well, yeah, I think so. I just told you she hates her red hair and she hates being the smallest person in a room so yeah, I don't think you made a great impression."

"But … she's perfect," Jace could feel all the carefully crafted reserve on his face fall away.

Now Jonathan was frowning. "Well, I think so. I mean that's my sister. I love her." He stood close to Jace, quietly examining him. The frown on his face smoothed away. "Listen, Jace. I've been watching out for her for as long as I can remember. Our parents died a long time ago and she's the most important person in my life."

Jace listened intently, eager for any information that would help him know her.

"I know about you and Seelie," Jonathan's face grew stern but there was nothing hostile about his tone.

"Seelie?" Jace was bewildered by this turn in their conversation.

"Yeah, my girlfriend," Jonathan answered drily. "I mean, we've been going out for a month and that's sort of a record for me. It doesn't matter. I mean that was in the past but she told me you broke her heart, that you've left a long trail of broken hearts behind you and God, I don't care. I mean, I'm a guy. I understand how it is … at our age. We've got hormones and shit but my sister, she's a different story. I'm not standing by and watching any guy, even you, Jace, fool around with her. You understand what I'm saying, right, Jace? Stay away from her."

"Stay away from her," Jace repeated stupidly, not even sure what that meant.

"Great," Jonathan relaxed and gave Jace a pat on the back. "I'm glad we had this talk. I'll catch you later." Jonathan walked off.

Jace stood frozen to the spot. He wanted to get out of here but he had no idea where to go. He wanted to find her. Clary. Make her see. Make her want him. There was nothing else he could do. If he could only get her to feel one tenth of what he was feeling …

"Hi there," a big, busty blonde, bubble gum chewing cheerleader smiled up at him flirtatiously. "You're new, aren't you? Do you need help getting somewhere?"

He felt as if he were submerged under murky waters, as if he were holding his breath and couldn't tell which way was up or down, how to get his head out and draw in some desperately needed fresh air.

"Yeah, I'm a little lost. Not sure where I'm going," he smiled on autopilot. Looking at this girl, he knew most people would find her very attractive but with Clary on his mind, this girl's bright blonde hair, red lipsticked mouth and swelling curves that threatened to spill out of clothes that looked two sizes too small, she looked garish and harsh to his eyes. He felt a little ill when she grabbed his arm and pressed her giant breasts against him while she studied the schedule he was holding in his hand.

"It's your lucky day!" she squealed. "We have the same math class together next period. I'll walk with you."

Oh no, he thought. Wait maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe he could get some … information. "Hey, do you know Jonathan Fairchild?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I know Jonathan. Everyone knows Jonathan," she smiled. Her eyes were clearly inviting him to have his way with her.

Ugh. "Yeah, what about his sister?" Jace tried to ask casually.

"Who?" she looked confused.

"Clary. His sister, Clary," Jace pressed her.

"You mean Raggedy Ann meets Mr. Magoo?" she snickered derisively.

"What? No, no," he looked at her incredulously. He would get nothing worthwhile out of her.

"Come on, I'll take you to class and I'll show you the mural Raggedy painted on the way there. She's actually pretty good. At least the poor thing has some talent," she mockingly shrugged.

Jace brightened at the prospect of seeing something she created, something that came from her … shit, what was wrong with him?

"I'm Jace," he said hoping to God she could hear the clear 'let's just be friends' intonation in his voice.

"Oh, I know who you are," she said coyly. It didn't bode well. "I'm Kaelie."


	22. Chapter 22 A Storm is Coming

Fast Forward – Two Days Ago …

What did she just say? He had to be hearing her wrong. Even for her, it just wasn't possible.

Imogen Herondale did not even bother to meet Jace's eyes. Everything about her projected an elegant nonchalance but Jace didn't doubt that it all came from studied practice.

"Is there a problem, Jace?" she asked while she drifted around his apartment, running a finger across the various surfaces and then examining it for traces of dirt and dust. "Your maid service is less than optimal. It's a good thing you won't be here long."

"Yes," he finally said. There was no fucking way he was going to be railroaded into this. "There is a problem. I am not going to spend four years in Europe and I am not getting engaged to Marchioness Sofia. You are out of your mind." He knew he shouldn't have thrown that last comment in but seriously she was insane.

Her blue eyes turned frosty when they lifted, taking him in. "It's time to grow up, Jace. You're a man now and a Herondale. I've already made all the arrangements to have you attend Cambridge and Our Lady Sofia is quite the eligible match. Beauty, money and a title, she has it all. We could not hope to do better."

"I haven't even started classes here yet," Jace began. He lifted a fist to his head, grabbing a chunk of hair in frustration. "What are you doing? How can you call me a man and then run my life like this?" He could feel a brimming explosion between them. All his life he worked so hard to appease her, quell her complaints, but now … he wasn't sure he wanted that anymore or even if he could possibly still do it.

"I'm doing what I've always done," she answered calmly. "Looking out for our best interests. Making sure you fulfill your place and take full advantage of the blessings of our heritage."

He swung his hands out violently. "How the hell does it fulfill my place to trot off to Europe and marry some stuck up title I don't even know? How is that in my best interests?"

Imogen seemed to lose some of her cool demeanor as her cheeks flushed red. "You've never had a problem with my plans before. Not until you started … that school with those dregs. Is that what you want? To be nothing, to have nothing with that trash?"

The color of raw emotion on her face actually made her look vaguely touchable and … human. He could have been glad to see that but what did she mean? "What are you talking about? What dregs? What trash? Half the kids I hung out with I knew from Xavier's, the same kids I was with the last three years in the school you sent me to and the other half were no different from them. Some way better with their grades, their accomplishments, their plans for the future –"

"You know what I'm talking about," she was as angry as he'd ever seen her, perhaps even angrier than when she had lashed out at him when he had been unable to stop questioning her about his grandfather's whereabouts a long time ago. Her silver coif actually looked untidy as her entire body seemed to shake with rage. "That little redheaded thing you insist on carrying on with. You've had enough fun rolling around with it and now it's time to end that."

His eyes grew huge and he stood so still he didn't appear to be breathing. "Do not ever speak about her like that. The next time you disrespect her will be the last time you see me," he spoke quietly with an iron certainty.

They stood silent across from each other, their gazes locked.

"Are you threatening me?" her voice was clear and deadly.

Seeing the undisguised hate in her eyes made something inside him snap. He didn't know why she despised him and suddenly he stopped caring. "How could I do that? I have nothing you want," he answered. "I'm not going to Europe. I'm not marrying Lady Sofia. I'm not staying here."

The hate on her face turned to surprise. "Oh? I thought you wanted to be here, go to Harvard. If you're not staying here, what will you do?" she asked.

"I'm going back to Idris." He felt a warmth rise up his center as he spoke the words and embraced them. It chased away the chill that had settled in his bones since he had left his home, since he had left her. "And then I'll figure it out from there."

Her face seemed to tremor as it rapidly changed expressions from a baffled wonder to an astounded horror and then a heated contempt. "You're going back … for her. You'd give up everything, all our plans … for her." There was no elegance now, not in the way she spoke, the way she stood, the harsh lines etched on her face. She was a viper, readying to strike. "If you go back there, if you turn your back on me, you're on your own. You understand that. You may think you can live on the pittance your father left you but you know nothing about living without, not having your every whim catered to, never having to consider how much things costs."

Jace watched her, his eyes clear and steady, and then nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "I don't know those things but I suppose it's time I learned."

She turned away from him slowly but did not drop her head. There was none of her customary grace in her movements but she did not stop moving until she reached the apartment door, swung it open, then marched out.

He was alone now … and he felt some remorse. That was probably the last time he would see her. He didn't question whether he was doing or planning to do the right thing, but he had never wanted to disappoint her. He had always hoped one day they could find their way to a real relationship, one that was caring and accepting. Despite the poverty stricken picture his grandmother described, Jace knew he was still better off than most people. He had the house his grandfather had left him and a bank account with eighteen years of untouched survivor death benefits that were paid to his mother and then to him following his father's death. There was also a trust fund his grandfather had set up for him but wouldn't be open to him until his thirtieth year. He didn't know how much was in it. His grandmother scoffed that the sums were negligible, that his grandfather had no intention of breaking apart the Herondale business dynasty that his own family had built up over generations so the vast fortune mainly remained under his grandmother's control. He was saddened at the thought that he might be disappointing his grandfather, that this move away from his grandmother would surely have him cut out from any management over the Herondale empire. He just couldn't continue robotically following his grandmother's machinations.

It was true, having Clary in his life opened his eyes to much of this view but it wasn't her that led him to reject his grandmother's plans, not the way she accused. Clary brought an undeniable clarity that allowed him to see what was in his heart (he had a heart!) and what was in his soul. He wasn't sure what he would do with his life. Overseeing the family business had been his 'destiny' since he was old enough to think of such things. It was only recently, in the last few weeks, that he began to question this path. There was only one thing he knew with certainty. Clary was a part of him. He could not stay away from her. Not for long anyway. A day, maybe two, was bearable. It became excruciating beyond that. Since they had met, there was a vibrant undercurrent in every moment that made him so glad to be alive. Even when she avoided him, when he thought he had lost her, just knowing she was out there, that she existed, gave the world meaning. He pulled out a suitcase from his closet and started packing. With any luck she would be back in his arms before then end of the day.

* * *

Jace had been here before, not too long ago, when he got her the pink heart necklace thinking the way it sparkled and reflected the light in blinding streaks of pink and white was the closest physical testament that he had yet seen to the transcending light she had brought into his own life. Everything was brighter since that first moment he saw her, even the moldy and shadowy corners where he hid his worries and fears. They didn't exist when he held her and when she wasn't in his arms they insidiously returned but he could hold them at bay, knowing she would wipe them away again once they reunited. Considering these worries and fears revolved around losing her, he supposed that made sense and for a moment he wondered what would happen to him if he did truly lose her, if he could no longer rely on the knowledge that she would be in his arms as soon as he could reach her.

His mind went back to that week after they first met and he bided his time, watching and waiting, collecting as much information about her as he could gather, desperately trying to figure out how to approach her again without falling flat on his face. He realized during that torturous but incredibly enlivening week, just how pitifully unprepared he was to handle these burgeoning feelings and how he stumbled haphazardly into a completely foreign and light filled world opening up before him.

Then there was that week after they had first made love and he didn't know what happened. She was not the first virgin he had but it didn't matter. His resolve to never sleep with another virgin again after the third one haunted the gates of his grandmother's home and followed him shamelessly for a month had been instantaneously forgotten when they met. The moment he entered her, he knew this was it for him. She was all he needed. There could never be another girl. Everything about her was perfectly made for him, even that first time with the painfully tight caress between her legs, when he first plunged inside, the way her tiny hole molded around him, he knew he was home. Sex had always felt good. He never had bad sex but with her it just went so far beyond anything he had ever experienced. He had almost completely lost it. He had never been more grateful than when he felt her coming and just in time, since he knew he couldn't hold back any more. He remembered that first gushing release shooting out of him while he felt her tight wet folds shuddering around him. And it just got better each time, which was pretty fucking amazing considering it was the best thing he ever felt that first time and they had just about been at it like rabbits since they got back together. Shit. He had to stop before he had an accident in his pants. He thought about going back to the rental and taking care of himself in the car, something he hadn't had to do for more than five years, but no, he took a few deep breaths and let his mind move on to the … terror that came over him when he realized she was gone and then when he understood she didn't want to see him.

He thought he might break apart then. He didn't know what to do, what had he done? He considered forcing his way into her home but once he knew she was physically okay and she wanted him to stay away, he could only stalk her home, waiting to get a glimpse of her. She would have to come out eventually … but it took a week. He could barely think at that point. Izzy spoke to him … told him to keep his distance; that she just needed some space to figure out what she wanted. He hadn't said a word. He thought the world was shaking around him and was afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he tried to talk about her. But he could see sympathy in Izzy's eyes so he knew he wasn't doing such a great job of hiding the frantic turmoil building up in his chest. Even Jonathan first approached him with blame and fury evident on his face but that swiftly transformed to a confused, almost conciliatory, concern for Jace. He was incapable of doing more than going through the barest motions of life. He thought most people could not see through it. They treated him no differently, but it was clear Izzy and Jonathan could see something more and they seemed honestly worried for him.

Meanwhile his grandmother was as cheerful as he had ever seen her. She didn't return home until late the following day and asked him how he occupied himself. She hardly ever asked about him except when she had sent him out to represent the family in some capacity so that was odd but he could hardly tell her the truth, that he was afraid he was tearing up and would soon be an unintelligible heap of broken pieces. She even insisted he take Daphne Brooks to some ball she was chairing. He wanted to tell her that was impossible. The notion of pretending that all was well when his world was collapsing was beyond comprehension but he had no strength to explain or argue. He was completely helpless so he said nothing when she explained his assignment and strangely only gave him a cold yet curious look when he failed to respond affirmatively as expected. He could only manage a shrug and slunk away from her.

He couldn't even think about the second time they parted. That had been the worst time in his life and he had known exactly what he had done. He had been in a state of hell as soon as he saw the pain crashing down behind her eyes when he told her he couldn't … but she didn't understand … he couldn't explain it right. Of course he … she was everything to him. How could she question it? He just, he couldn't say it, what she wanted to hear, because it opened the doors to all of fate's cruelties and if there was one thing he knew, it was how very cruel and unfair life was to … love. But he knew he hurt her. And it killed him. He wanted to die when she told him she had to learn to stop loving him and then when she walked away hand in hand with … Sebastian. No, he couldn't think about it. He couldn't relive that terrible, agonizing time, even in his head.

Well, at least his erection was gone. Thank God for that.

He had seen it the last time he was here and it called out to him then. He didn't like it though. It was understated, mutely beautiful, not the loud blazing beauty of the pink heart or everything else he wanted to shower on her but he knew she would like this much better. He could see her happy with it. He had known when he got her the necklace that she wouldn't be entirely comfortable wearing it but he needed to show her, that he wanted to shout out what he felt for her if he could, that he would give her everything. Now, he just wanted her to have something she could happily wear all the time. It felt right even if he would have preferred something larger, eye-catching, declaring to the world that there could be nothing more precious than the person who wore it.

"That's a lovely choice," the saleslady smiled at him. "Must be a very lucky girl."

"No," Jace kept his eyes down on his selection, imagining the moment he held it out to her. "I'm the lucky one.

Although he had not been lucky with his flight. He had sent her a text in the morning before he boarded to take the only seat available on the next flight to the closest city from home, almost two hours drive away, to tell her he would not make their nightly call. But he was on his way and soon they would be together again.

* * *

"Your timing could have been better," she said coldly into the phone, "but I'll let you know if we can work something out."

Imogen walked over to a hallway mirror and patted at her cheeks as if she were layering on the coolly dispassionate expression that made its way back on her face.

"I don't believe I need to explain things to you but he's gone. He's gone back … to her. I'll know as soon as there's an opening and you had better be ready to act when I call you. Until then," she said dismissively and then disconnected the call.

This business was all very tiresome and vulgar. But she needed him. She needed that child firmly in hand, the way he used to be, thanks to her ungrateful and wretched husband. She was glad he was no longer alive to thwart her pans but he had his revenge nevertheless. Not for the first time, she mentally retraced the events that led to this impasse. How did it all go so wrong? He had always been so easy to manipulate before. It wasn't for lack of intelligence. That much was obvious from the way he excelled at every challenge placed in his path, tests that she planned out to take measure of him, determine if he were worthy of the role she laid out for him. He always seemed to understand her way was best. He never questioned her. What was it? She recollected the smooth, almost bored look that she had come to know as his face until the last year and then it all changed. Subtly at first and he made an effort to keep his guarded cool when she could observe him but it started with a feverish excitement she had never seen before and then an almost bereft longing and the worst of them all, a glowing hopeful happiness. It had not been difficult finding out what brought on this change in her grandson.

She had a very excellent private investigator on retainer and occasionally she would have him dig up a report on Jace's activities. She needed to know what he may be keeping from her. She was well aware they didn't have an open, trusting relationship and she needed to know what he was up to, what could be used against them, what she could use against him. There was never anything worthwhile in these reports. Nothing she could use at least, some trivial drama with some girls he had his way with, easy whores he would promptly drop as soon as he bedded them. They would usually follow him around for a week or two until they would finally realize their own stupidity and fade away. This was acceptable and hardly interested her. At least she knew he was straight. But then finally met a girl who did not so easily fall back opening her legs for him and he changed. He visibly changed. She could tell he was somewhere else even when he was right in front of her, the typical cool composure on his face, nodding at her words.

He seemed surprised when she casually mentioned he should bring his girlfriend home, introduce them since she seemed to be important to him. She actually felt twinges of pride for a brief few seconds when he evaluated her with her own calculating eyes, assessing the situation and measuring her motives, but then he actually seemed pleased. She knew then that this could be a game changer but she unforgivably kept her head buried, refusing to acknowledge that this little trollop could possibly derail her grand vision, the eighteen years of work she put into the boy. She was certain once he finally got her on her back, he would tire of her and drop her like he did with all the others. She had to admit though, the girl was a pretty little thing. There was something unusually arresting about her eyes, a clear bright green that hid nothing. She loved him. That was obvious and not unexpected but there was something singular in them and when she finally realized she had seen a similar depth of feeling before, between her own son and the tramp he degraded himself to marry … she began to worry and knew she had to shut this down.


	23. Chapter 23 A Mistake

Sebastian slammed the phone down once he realized he had been summarily dismissed. Goddamn it! Jace was back or on his way. A part of him, the rational thinking part, told himself to let go, admit defeat and leave her alone. She might even regret him, miss him, but he knew. He knew he couldn't compete with Jace as long as that arrogant, gloating prick was around and didn't mess up with his own idiotic bullshit. And he was pretty sure Jace had learned enough from their last fallout. He knew what would set her off and he was not about to make that same mistake again. Shit! He came back at the worst possible time … for Sebastian. He had really felt they were on the verge of something. He had told her he loved her and she didn't run away. The tension between them was palpable now. He could feel it surging in the air around them. Another week, maybe two and she would be ready for him … as long as Jace stayed out of the picture. She was vulnerable. He could sense it growing each day … and she needed a man. He'd always had a sixth sense of sorts, an ability to read females; when they would be more trouble than it was worth (Izzy) and when they were ripe for the picking. He knew she could feel it too, the way her eyes widened with fear … and excitement at the sight of him, the way she quivered when he came close to her. He was pretty certain her efforts to warn him off were her flailing and desperate attempts to make him go when she knew she couldn't walk away herself.

It was upsetting that she didn't immediately return the feelings he shared with her but realistically he knew she wasn't there yet. It was just – he was getting so damn excited feeling how close he was to his goal … and it was insanely arousing being around her, sensing how wound up she was … that she needed to fuck. He had never gotten that vibe from her before. He supposed he had Jace to thank for that. She must have been getting it nonstop before he left. He'd heard Jace had some kind of unfailing golden cock that always gave a girl an orgasm. It sounded ridiculous but he grudgingly supposed that would explain why she exuded an animal like, rutting heat since Jace left and had Sebastian panting. He had never felt this type of uncontrollable want before. He had always been able to stay aloof even when he was horny as hell but now he began to question if he had ever really been this horny before. He wanted to see her screaming, feel her coming underneath him. He wanted to taste every part of her and drink her up. Maybe it wasn't love. What did he know about it anyway? He thought it was love. He'd never been so consumed by a girl before but the way he was feeling now … it was just a driving, pulsing lust and he had to quench it before he completely lost his mind. He should have taken up what's her name's offer at the theater. She had been willing to get down but what? What was it? Was he saving himself for her? She was probably fucking her brains out as he stood here, wild with his own physical need, desperate to have her open her legs for him. He was even willing to do whatever evil fucked up mission Jace's grandmother came up with to get at her. He knew whatever it was, it would hurt her. It would have to destroy the 'great love' she had with Jace; that was the only thing the old bat wanted. And would he want that? If he really loved her, would he do that to her?

He was conflicted. He knew he shouldn't, not if he truly loved her but God! He needed to have her. And it wasn't all about slaking his own desires. He was far more desperate to see her, feel her coming apart, coming for him, calling out his name. All that shit that had meant nothing to him before. As long as he got off, he didn't really care much about what his partner felt. They seemed to enjoy it. He was complimented as an excellent lover, but it was not a concern for him. He certainly didn't lose any sleep over it. But … since he'd gotten close to her, as her friend, all he'd known were restless, tormented nights. So maybe it wasn't a selfless love. Did that even exist? He would make her feel good. He'd work hard at it. He'd take care of her. He didn't even question it. That had to count for something. But what was he supposed to do now? Wait? Just wait for a call from Jace's grandmother? Clary wouldn't care if he went out and got laid. She'd probably cheer him on. But … but … the sex he did have with random, willing girls … weekly at first, then every two or three weeks after he and Clary had gotten close and now nothing, it felt … stale, unsatisfying and … who needed that shit?

* * *

It was a perfect day. Waking up in Jace's arms, making love again, showering together, making love in there too, finally getting dressed and out of the house. They went out for some breakfast, to a wonderful pastry and coffee shop and then they went hiking! They always had so much fun together and it was nothing short of heaven to enjoy the unspoiled mountain landscape with Jace's warm hand wrapped securely around hers. Jace had explored these trails on his own for so long he knew all the best spots to view the Idris scenery below them and some untrodden spots where they could feel safely secluded. In one of these spots, by a large boulder, he spun her around, pulled down her pants, bent her over the rock and a few energetic strokes was all it took before they were both coming. The second time was by an ancient majestic tree. He lifted her up and had her back against it while he pumped away inside her. She had to remember to bring extra underwear for any excursions out with him. She thought they had gotten the urgent need to connect their bodies out of their system after the night and then the morning they spent. She would probably be good for the rest of the day, until tonight of course. She didn't doubt she'd be hungry again by nightfall and was a little worried he might not have anything left by then. But really? If she really needed more tonight after the pounding she'd been taking all morning and all day, then … she had problems. But that went without saying, didn't it?

She didn't want to think about what she'd do once he left. She was a craven bundle of nerves after a week away from him. What the hell would happen after two weeks? And why was the separation so acute now? They had been apart before. Granted, those times were different. Terrible, god awful times when she believed they might be over so … why … why was it so much more difficult now? She tried to solve this mystery but there didn't seem to be any explanation other than that more time had passed and the need for him just kept growing with time. They were standing at the edge of a peak. A mountain climber with all the requisite gear could keep going up but they were as high as they were safely going to get using the cleared walking trails.

It was so beautiful. She had her back to Jace with his arms wrapped around her waist as they both took in the enchanting scenery. Sometimes it was easy to forget how truly lovely their hometown was, with all its natural greenery and delicately detailed architecture designed and built over a hundred years ago but immaculately maintained and well preserved. She wished she could stop worrying about what would happen when Jace left and just enjoy this wonderful moment.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" the sound of his voice was immediately comforting.

"Nothing," she answered. Really, how could anything be wrong when they were together? She shoved away her anxiety. It wasn't difficult when he held her. She could feel each breath he took, his hard chest swelling behind her back. She took his arms, already tightly wound around her and covered them with her own hands.

"Tell me," he responded.

Sometimes it would be so much easier if they weren't so in tune with each other's moods. She could tell there was something on his mind but she knew he'd talk about it when he was ready.

She took a deep breath. "Baby, I'm so happy you're here and … I'm going to miss you so much when you have to leave again."

He slowly turned her around to face him and the look on his face took her breath away. He was even more beautiful than the landscape around them, especially here with his golden eyes and hair dazzling with sunlight.

"We can be together all the time, forever." There was something about the way he said this that felt inexplicably … unsettling.

He had one arm around her waist and the other hand lifted to sweep the hair off her face. It was long and loose the way he liked it. He cradled her cheek with his hand.

"What do you mean?" she asked tentatively. "You're not going back?" She struggled with the blossoming hope unfurling inside. She wanted him to be happy, first and foremost, but she didn't want him to miss out on anything. She was certain he could accomplish whatever he set his mind to but his opportunities to learn had to be vastly limited if he stayed here, with her.

"I mean … I want you to marry me," he answered and with that he let her go, dropped down on his knees and pulled out a box from the inner pocket of his windbreaker.

His eyes were steady and stayed intently on her face while she stared, shocked out of her mind, at the ring in the black box he held out. The band was a delicate yellow gold with a filigree design that housed the most exquisite emerald she had ever seen. She didn't know anything about carats but this was just the right size, nestled in a weblike golden cage with an array of smaller sparkling diamonds encased in rose shaped pockets of gold surrounding the brilliantly clear green emerald. She acted without thinking when she plucked it out of the velvet sleeve and put it on her ring finger. It fit perfectly and it felt like it belonged there. She had never been interested in jewelry before but she couldn't stop admiring how gorgeous this ring was. She loved it. And then she was confounded by the meaning behind it, the fact that Jace was still kneeling in front of her, his beloved face alight with emotion, his eyes still expectant, enjoying her appreciative reaction yet anxiously waiting for her answer. But she didn't know how to answer. This wasn't possible, was it? Not now.

"Are you kidding me?" came out of her mouth and she immediately wished she could take it back when he flinched, a crestfallen expression pulling his face down. "I mean … aren't we too young?" she backtracked. "You're only eighteen –"

"My grandmother doesn't think I'm too young," he said quietly.

She wasn't sure if he had meant for her to hear him but "What? Your grandmother … wants you … to marry me?" She was too astounded by this possibility to give thought to anything else.

The gaze he levelled at her was the harshest she had ever seen from him.

"We had a falling out," he told her. "I don't expect to see her again." His beautiful face grew hard and cold. "She's cut me off."

She didn't like the way he looked at her then. She never imagined she could feel this way about him but it … repulsed her.

"What happened, Jace? What's the matter?" They would figure this out together. She didn't know what brought on this … chill from Jace but their love was the truest thing there could be and … "Baby, I love you more than anything. It's just … it's hard enough, just starting our own lives, figuring out who we want to be … I don't think either of us are ready for … marriage yet."

She was relieved to see most of the stony chill dissolve from his face but he was still distant.

"We're old enough to practically live together, spend every hour making love. I don't see why we can do all that but not be old enough to get married." He still looked up into her eyes, only a few inches below her while he remained on his knees but all the hopeful softness in them was gone.

She carefully put her hands on his face. There was something terribly wrong. "Nothing makes me happier than knowing you want to spend your life with me. Believe me, that's how I feel too, but marriage is a huge responsibility. In my eyes, it's something you can really only commit to once you've figured out some things about yourself, about what you want to do and the last thing you need is to worry about how to take care of a spouse when you've still got to find out how to take care of yourself."

A frown formed on his face and he slowly stood up off his knees. "Is that it? You don't think I can take care of you?"

"What?" Where was he going with this? "No, that's not what I'm saying. What are you thinking?" She was only getting a hazy gray static from him. The warm rays of love that she always felt emanating from him were clouded over.

Maybe you're not so eager to be with me now that I'm not inheriting the motherload. Maybe that's why I don't look so good to you anymore," he lashed out at her.

Her eyes turned into huge green saucers while his golden orbs darkened and narrowed. Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand and dragged her down the trail. "Forget it. I've got my answer. We're leaving."

She could barely comprehend what was happening as they raced down the trail. A few times she lost her footing but before she could tumble down, Jace immediately turned and righted her with his other hand. He never broke contact with his one hand firmly holding hers but everything felt wrong. Even his hand over hers, which always felt right, now felt like an obligatory iron brace, something that would temporarily keep her safe but would break away as soon as they reached their destination.

Some part of her was furious with him. How dare he think this of her! That she wanted him for his … money? But the greater part, the part that made her heart pound heavily and brought a wheezing terror to her soul recognized there must be some deep and terrible insecurities within him that could lead him to such thoughts. And then, she was overcome with an understanding that he must see her response as a rejection when she could never reject him. She would happily spend eternity with him but she couldn't agree to marriage now when she truly did not believe they were ready for it. She hadn't even finished high school. They still had so much to learn and so much growing up to do. She couldn't even imagine the uproar it would incite in her brother or her aunt and she didn't want to be the cause of this rift between Jace and his grandmother. She felt certain she was at the root of their break and as much as she detested the woman she was sorry it happened. She knew it had to hurt him.

So she found herself practically running down the mountain path behind Jace, unable to form a comprehensible sentence. When they reached his car, he practically threw her into the passenger seat but still cared enough to fasten the seatbelt for her. She knew she lacked the wits to accomplish even that small feat and felt some relief that Jace cared enough to want to keep her safe. He said nothing while he drove and she strained to visualize how to rectify this situation. They would get back to their house. She would hold him and explain everything so he could understand. She never wanted to be separate from him. She only wanted him to have this chance to concentrate on himself, not to worry about taking care of a wife. And then she realized the car stopped. They were in front of her aunt's home.

"We're not going to the house?" It shouldn't have been such a surprise. All she could feel was a fiery red anger or a wintry cold freeze coming from him. It was actually rather remarkable how his emotions rapidly switched between these two spectrums.

"No," he answered. She thought her heart might freeze over.

He turned to face her but would not meet her eyes. "I'm going to need some time alone. We'll talk later." His eyes glazed over and his head moved robotically to face the windshield. She watched his fingers turn white gripping the steering wheel.

"Jace –," she started, her voice pleading. He couldn't leave her like this.

"I can't talk to you now. I can't look at you now," he cut her off. She still couldn't see his eyes. All she felt when she looked at him was a freezing blizzard that would not let her pass.

She slowly opened the door and got out. She was about to shut it when she looked down and saw the beautiful ring glinting off her finger. She wrapped her right hand around it and pulled at the ring to remove it. She should return it, explain that it was the loveliest ring she had ever seen but this wasn't the time to wear it. It was not tight. It felt perfect on her finger but … it would not come off.

Jace finally turned to face her and crumpled with a horrified expression. "Stop it. I don't want that back. Keep it. Burn it. Throw it away. I don't want to see it."

She staggered back at his words and dropped her hands. She watched in disbelief as he leaned towards her door, slammed it shut then drove away.

* * *

What was he doing? He was burning up. He was seething with rage. And then he wrestled with it, grappling around and around with it. He had to get it in check. If he learned anything from his grandmother, it was the absolute necessity to maintain control. A stream of ice flowed through his veins and cooled off the boiling, volcanic anger. Only to have it exploding back as he heard his grandmother's sneering voice uttering the stern warning she had lectured at him over and over again. They all wanted the money. The only people you could trust were other people with money and you couldn't even really trust them either. All anyone wanted was the money. Never fool yourself into thinking they might actually like you, value you. You are nothing compared to the money.

But … this was Clary. What was wrong with him? Panic stabbed at his heart, a piercing pain overwhelmed him. Was he crazy? Even worse than the rage or the numbing freeze, was the despair that threatened to swallow him whole. She didn't want him. She didn't want to marry him. Not without the money. She didn't want him without the money.

The car came to a screeching halt, his foot slamming down on the brake. No, no, no! That wasn't her. He knew it wasn't her. He was … disappointed. Horribly disappointed, crushed and … he felt like shit right now. But she said she loved him and … honestly he wasn't sure what she said. He couldn't hear anything once the thunderous, choking, sickness came over him as he realized she was not saying yes. But … this wasn't the worst thing that could happen. He knew that. He knew it would be far worse if she left him. The way he left her. Oh God, he had to go back. He had to tell her. They would figure this out. It was not the end of the world. He was just wrung out after all that shit with his grandmother. He didn't think. He just acted … like an idiot.

He started the car and began turning it back towards home, to Clary. She was his home, the only home he needed. But then the darkness around him was suddenly vanquished by a bright white light. His eyes were blinded by a blazing pair of headlights.

Clary, was his last thought before his senses were flooded by the sound of screeching, tearing metal, shattering glass and a jagged, overpowering pain that shut everything down.


	24. Chapter 24 Aftermath

"How is he?" she asked, a small frown on her face indicating the extent of her concern.

The odd look the doctor gave her prompted her expression to transform into something else, something a bit closer to what he was expecting, something that conveyed fear. In truth, she was a little fearful although she had spent so many decades honing her skills at hiding this weakness that it felt odd and wrong to display but it was more important to keep the family façade from crumbling.

When she was informed of the collision she had been exceedingly displeased. She had never approved any injury to the boy. She needed him intact. It would serve very poorly if he perished. Somehow Silas, her PI and retained underling, had been under the mistaken impression the boy had to be kept away from the little slut at any cost. She supposed she may have mislead him with her ranting vehemence against their relationship but she was certain she never authorized any harm to the child.

Silas had stalwartly explained that if he allowed Jace to return to "his girlfriend," it would likely be impossible to separate them. He had been tailing Jace closely since she contacted him after she left Jace's apartment. He had informed her when he witnessed the boy buy the ring and listened to her raging she would rather see him dead than married to the little redheaded slut. He knew it wouldn't help to point out her name was Clary and there was something … different about the two of them. He had watched Jace and Clary before, at least a dozen other times at his grandmother's behest and each time he was struck by the way they looked at each other, touched and held onto one another. Everything about them screamed they were meant to be together. It was oddly enjoyable at first watching them even while he was well aware of who employed him and how she brutally opposed the union. He was certain he would have some very bad news to relay to her and he was not in the least looking forward to being the bearer of this news. She was not the most reasonable person at times.

She had point blank expectations and did not take kindly to failure regardless of whether or not the outcome could be controlled. He had also begun to feel a strange resentment toward the boy. This kid literally had everything. All the money he could ever need, movie star good looks and … true love, something Silas had long ago pegged as mythical nonsense. It was not something everyone had a chance to experience. Silas was quite certain on that score. This was something incredibly rare and why the hell was it all handed to Jace? So … when he realized all was not well between Jace and Clary … something clearly more wrong with Jace than Clary, he was … glad. Mostly because he could finally relay something to Mrs. Herondale that would give her some satisfaction and earn him a fat bonus but also because it was about time things weren't so perfect for that kid.

It was not easy maintaining the distance to avoid detection but still stay close enough to see what was going on but he caught them in front of her home. She was wearing the ring. Bad. But wait, she was taking it off and they were talking. Clearly not a happy conversation from the looks on their faces. And then he slammed her door and drove off. Silas decided to stick around for a minute to watch the girl. He had a tracker on Jace's car. It wouldn't be hard to pick up his tail in another few minutes. He had to see how she reacted to gauge what was happening. How deep was this breach between them? She stood there unmoving, her eyes glued to the road as if she were willing Jace to return and then she started shaking. Silas realized he had been there too long, watching this pitiful scene for longer than he intended when she finally dropped her head and moved unsteadily into her home. He turned on the bug tracker and was closing in on Jace fast, faster than he would have expected when he saw him again. The kid was turning his car around on a deserted stretch of road. It was dark, not a well traveled spot, with a lone street lamp about a hundred yards away the only source of light other than the beams coming from the headlights. At that moment, Silas had known exactly what Jace was doing and he also knew it was his own do or die moment. He had to make a call here. If he didn't stop the kid now, there was no question in his mind that Jace would never leave Clary's side again. He could see it on the boy's face, even from this distance. He could see it and he drove straight into Jace's car.

Mrs. Herondale was calm when he told her what had happened. She immediately took charge and gave him instructions to disappear immediately. She would make the necessary arrangements for her grandson. She was not grateful. She was not happy with the actions he had taken but she was completely collected, clearly in her element, a far cry from the almost hysteric tirade she vented when he told her his suspicions that Jace would propose.

She now faced the doctor waiting for Jace's prognosis. She already knew he would live from the early assessments she received from her emergency physician. The real question was what was the extent of the damage and how would she use it to her benefit. She needed answers and she needed to plan out her next steps accordingly.

Doctor Silverstein was the leading expert on head injuries and Jace had suffered a severe concussion along with numerous breaks, bumps and bruises but no permanent bodily damage was evident.

"He's better. The brain swelling is down thankfully. The readings look positive. Everything is functioning normally but we won't know anything for certain until he regains consciousness," the doctor answered.

He maintained a clinical distance but she could see a deeper concern in his eyes. He was hiding something.

"What is it?" she pressed. "I need to know what is the worst case."

His eyebrows lifted fractionally and his body seemed to harden. "As I said, there is no way to tell for sure. Brain swelling can create a host of long term disabilities. But the scans are not indicating any issues … but any brain swelling is … bad. There will be some impact. I just can't tell what that will be at this point and whether it will be temporary or permanent."

"When will he wake up?" Imogen questioned.

"I am keeping him unconscious at this time. I wasn't planning to take him off the sedatives for another day, maybe two," the doctor answered.

"Is that helping?" she asked sternly.

"I don't know but the body has natural healing abilities that work best without the added strain of consciousness," Doctor Silverstein reasoned.

"If you don't know then take him off," Imogen demanded. "I want to know what we're dealing with."

She saw the disapproval on the doctor's face and had the urge to slap it off but instead she molded a downcast turn to her lips and tried to make her eyes sorrowful. "So I can plan for his care. He needs to have the best possible care and I need to know who to contact."

The doctor said nothing for a beat and then nodded. "Alright. I'll take him off the drugs. He should wake soon … within the next few days."

Imogen soured at the thought of waiting for days. "Isn't there a way to get him up sooner?"

The doctor frowned. "No, I wouldn't recommend that. We shouldn't force him to wake any sooner than when his body and mind are ready for it."

"Fine," she was finding it difficult to pretend undue concern for the child. He was a nuisance but she could not abandon him. "I want to be notified as soon as there are any signs he's waking. I'll be in my hotel suite."

* * *

Sebastian stretched after getting out of the limo. He had been traveling for more than a day and his body ached from sitting for prolonged periods. He had been treated to first class accommodations but still he was more than ready to reach his destination. He had been surprised to hear from the wicked witch, aka Jace's grandmother. It had been a little more than a month since he called the old lady. He had started dating again and believed himself just about cured of his bizarre obsession. He hadn't even seen Clary since that night at the movies when he was told Jace returned to her. He spoke with her a few times afterwards on the phone and sent her a number of texts to see if she wanted to hang out but each time she declined. She didn't elaborate. She didn't mention Jace at all and Sebastian would only go as far as asking how Jace was … once. He would not lower himself to attempt to pry any further. She had always been forthcoming on her own with any relationship concerns but maybe that all changed once he admitted his feelings for her. She hadn't responded to this one lone query about Jace and she didn't sound … right when he spoke with her. He might have once just showed up uninvited to check on her but while he assumed Jace had returned to Harvard he couldn't be sure and he couldn't stomach the thought of seeing them together. Anyway she would tell him, wouldn't she? If something was wrong between her and Jace? She had promised to give him a chance if things didn't work out with Jace.

He began to think he had truly overcome this thing he had for her. As long as he didn't see her, it felt like it was fading. Sure he thought about her, wondered what she was doing, but it wasn't so bad, certainly not so maddening. He still found himself almost exclusively attracted to pretty little things with a wild mass of curls. Red hair was a plus but so what? So he had a type. Everyone had a type. And sometimes he'd stay up for hours, thinking about those moment they had shared … alone … a kiss, the way she felt beneath his hands … but … it didn't hurt, not like it did a few weeks ago. All in all, he really began to think he was getting over this shit. Fine, he hadn't slept with anyone yet but that would happen soon. He just needed a little more time to get her out of his system. And then the phone call from Jace's grandmother.

He wanted to hang up on her, prove to himself that this wasn't important anymore but as soon as she told him Clary could be his, she had him. It felt like a heavy cloak he didn't even know he had on fell off his shoulders and right away he could see the truth. He was lying to himself. While he stayed away from her, the crazy consuming lust dampened but he still loved her. He could not stop. The thought that he might now finally have her was enough to get him to agree to travel across the country for some unexplained test that the old lady needed his help with. She would not explain over the phone. All would be revealed once they met. It had to be discussed in person. If he truly wanted Clary he would not regret assisting her now. He could not mistake the sneering way she uttered Clary's name. He could easily imagine she was not used to referring to Clary by her name and probably used something derisive and insulting instead but clearly she understood Sebastian would not appreciate that and … she needed him. He didn't like her but he had to grab at any chance he could get so he agreed and here he was, standing in front of the NY Presbyterian Hospital.

A nondescript man in a crisp black suit greeted Sebastian. "This way, Mr. Verlac. Madame Herondale is expecting you."

Black suit smiled politely when Sebastian nodded. Sebastian was disconcerted by his own ignorance. What was he doing here? How long would he have to stay here? When could he return home? Following black suit around the stark smooth halls, Sebastian realized he was being led through a back corridor of sorts. The hub bub of the main entrance, the swarm of nurses, doctors, patients and visitors were few and far between here and the décor also changed. A key card that black suit used to continue their route confirmed this was a private pathway. The floors were marble and the walls were richly decorated with lush paintings. It did not resemble a hospital at all but rather a house of the decadently rich.

Sebastian was no stranger to lavish surroundings. His parents came from old money but they were not inclined to overt displays of wealth and what he saw here was nothing if not offensively expensive but of course he did not hesitate. He was getting close to the old lady and soon his questions would be answered.

He was ushered into a surprisingly cheerful sitting room, an overflow of flowers at virtually every spare space the eye befell. Cushioned mustard yellow and cornflower blue armchairs were stationed around the room and clustered along an oblong stone table, replete with bright orange-red wildflowers. He was hardly a floral aficionado but the color and the flickering fire-like shape of its small petals brought Clary immediately to mind and he found himself drifting toward this arrangement.

"Do you like them?" The cool sound of her voice had his guard spring up. "Those are his favorite. I don't know how he acquired such peasant like taste … but it seems he's not alone in his … admiration."

Sebastian turned to her. He tried but failed to bring out the smooth smile that always coaxed out female esteem. Fuck it. He didn't like her and he wouldn't be able to fake it away.

"Why am I here?" he asked.

She gave him a thin smile and a long appraising look. "I thought I made the reason abundantly clear during our phone call but I suppose you want specifics on how you will … achieve your desires."

He involuntarily stepped back as she moved toward him.

"Sit down. We have much to discuss." She placed herself neatly on a blue chair and primly tucked at the hem of her below the knee length black wool skirt.

Sebastian slowly settled into a mustard chair across the table from where she sat.

"So how has," she hesitated, "Clary," she uttered with a distasteful grimace, "been handling the separation?"

Sebastian frowned. "What do you mean?" Was she asking about Clary and him? How the hell would he know when he hadn't seen her?

Imogen gave him a look as if he were a simpleton. "I imagine she hasn't been taking Jace's absence very well."

"Um … yeah, so where is Jace?" His mind scurried to process this information.

Imogen narrowed her eyes. She didn't like to be questioned when she was doing the questioning. "Sadly," she didn't look sad at all, "Jace was in an accident." She watched alarm rise up on Sebastian's face. "No need to worry. He's made a full recovery. The doctors have marveled at his healing abilities. They expected it to take much longer," she smirked then, "but he's already quite up and about."

Sebastian was thoroughly amazed. He wondered if he had lost all his masking skills because he knew there was no way she couldn't see it all on his face. "Then why? Why hasn't he seen Clary?"

Imogen looked annoyed now. "So … that is naturally where you think he'd be if he had all his … faculties?"

Sebastian wasn't sure what to make of her question. Shouldn't she know? Sebastian did not feel he knew Jace in any meaningful way but it didn't take much to see that yes, of course Jace would want to be wherever Clary was. "What's wrong with him?"

Imogen's face smoothed over. "I would say everything is right. He's back to himself. He is my grandson again and I want to make sure he stays that way."

Sebastian felt as if a block of ice had wedged its way into his stomach. He could tell this was the moment. The moment to make a deal with the devil.

"Jace experienced a severe blow to the head," Imogen explained. "He has no memory of the past year. The last thing he remembers is," she crinkled her nose a bit, "football camp." She chuckled then, an almost cackling sound to Sebastians' ears. "Oh he remembers her brother quite well. Speaks very fondly of him. Disappointed he can't remember the year they must have had together, winning the State Championship and all," she ended rather condescendingly but she obviously enjoyed the irony.

"You're not going to tell him," Sebastian croaked, almost awestruck. "You're not going to tell him about Clary."

Her eyes turned a steely, freezing blue and she fixed them on him, unblinking. "Why would I do that?" she finally moved her gaze off him, much to his relief. "He was going to throw it all away. I don't suppose you knew that." She turned back to examine his reaction. "Everything our family has built up for a century. He was going to walk away from all of it. For her."

Sebastian's mouth dried up but he found his voice. "That … sounds like him."

Imogen rolled her shoulders as if she were shrugging something bothersome off her back. "He would eventually regret giving it all up. Youth concocts fanciful dreams. They never work out."

"What do you want from me?" His own voice sounded strange to him.

"I want you to go see Jace. I want you to talk to him. The doctors do not believe he will recover his memory. They say it should have already come back by now if it was going to come back but they think there is a slight chance it may be triggered by a sensory cue that he would only know from the time he lost."

"And what makes you think I wouldn't tell him?" Sebastian asked. He wasn't even sure who was talking anymore. He didn't recognize himself.

Her piercing gaze seemed to dive into his soul. "Because this is the only chance you get. If you want her." She seemed to be fighting back from saying other words but then came out with, "Has that changed?"

A buzzing sensation rose up his toes and slowly expanded through his body until it reached his head and left him lightheaded.

"No," he spoke clearly. "That hasn't changed." This was it. He couldn't ask for a better chance … if Jace had no memory of her then … she was his … but, "How are you going to keep him from going back? If she sees him and he sees her …" he couldn't finish the thought.

"I told you my grandson is back to himself," Imogen replied confidently. "You didn't know him before. He doesn't concern himself with unimportant trivia. He has no desire to go back to Idris. I've informed him of my plans to take him out of the States. He is as obedient to my wishes as he always was. We will be leaving in a short while but first I need to make certain. I need to know he's not going to … suddenly remember and … make a mess of things." Her face turned hard and the lines on them seemed etched in stone.

Sebastian felt real sympathy for Jace in that moment. He wondered what would happen to Jace if he did make a mess. He was pretty sure whatever it was would be harsh and merciless.

"May I ask … what are these plans?" Sebastian sat up straight. He needed to know, make sure he was safe. He couldn't let himself fall head first into this deep, unknown abyss unless he knew for sure … Jace wasn't coming back.

Watching Madame Herondale watching him felt like a high stakes poker game. Both wanted to keep their cards hidden but both seemed to understand they could win this game … together.

"He will be attending Cambridge … and getting engaged to a Marchioness. The young lady is from a very noble and very wealthy house. We've never had a title in our family and she is the lone heiress to her family estate. Jace understands marriage is about family and alliances."

Sebastian gawked at her. He didn't know what to expect but he sure as hell hadn't expected that. "You're marrying him off … at eighteen? Isn't that a bit young?"

Imogen sneered at him. "He's getting engaged. They won't wed until after he completes University. That is still years away."

"And Jace agreed to this? He's going to marry someone he doesn't know? Hasn't even met?" Sebastian continued. He honestly couldn't imagine anyone would blindly agree to these terms. At least not anyone who grew up in the free world. Who was this Jace?

Imogen gave Sebastian a withering look. "You probably pose some challenges to your parents." She gave him a disapproving scowl. "My grandson, my real grandson knows that I only think of our best interests and he acts as I require."

Sebastian shook his head. It would not help to antagonize her. "Well, it means nothing to me what Jace does as long as he stays away … from Clary. I'll see him."

"Good," she said, satisfied.


	25. Chapter 25 A Letter

Sebastian thought perhaps he was dreaming. That seemed more likely than the reality of his present situation. He had followed Madame Herondale out of the sitting room and down another hallway to the right of the one he had previously traversed to arrive at a closed door. There were muffled sounds coming through the door. Unmistakable sounds that had Sebastian turning to the old lady with a mixture of disbelief and horror that he had accompanied Jace's grandmother only to listen to a couple engaging in very enthusiastic sex. Well, at least the girl sounded like she was really enjoying it. Sebastian could tell she was coming from her loud, high pitched wailing squeals. He couldn't hear her partner at all. Maybe it was two girls? It might have been a turn on if he had been alone but listening to this at the same time he was peering down at the flinty old woman who actually appeared rather pleased was mortifying and had the effect of dousing the lower half of his body in ice cold water.

"Should we be here?" Sebastian asked.

Imogen's eyebrows raised with amusement. "Is this offending your innocent ears?" She smirked at him and shook her head. "Don't worry. You won't have to endure it any longer. They're done."

At that she lifted a hand and issued three sturdy raps against the door. "Darling, it's grandmother. You have a visitor. Please be ready to see him in five minutes. We will wait for you in the reception room."

She turned back to Sebastian and motioned him back toward the sitting room. Sebastian followed Madame Herondale into the room and returned to the chair he had vacated. He sat back, his mind whirling. It all seemed too incredible and frankly this was some sick shit. What the hell was going on with Jace's grandmother? He stayed silent and tried not to think about that creepy old lady … smiling at the sound of Jace … and some girl … not Clary. This was … real. There was no way he would have dreamed this up. This was … freaking fantastic.

The sound of solid footsteps brought him back. He looked up eagerly. He was actually excited to see this, to see Jace. There was no end to the miracles taking place this day. The tall, golden headed boy who entered the room was definitely not the Jace that Sebastian remembered. He had the same chiseled features but not quite as perfect as before. There were light white lines across his skin, traces of the scars he must have earned from the accident. He had the same golden eyes but they were dull, almost lifeless now. There was no spark to them, none of the tangibly electric energy that seemed to vibrate off them before. His hair was sheared close to his head. The longish golden curls that lapped at his shoulders, something he knew Clary adored, were gone. He had lost quite a bit of weight. That wasn't surprising considering he'd been living in a hospital for a month but it all factored into this new Jace, this pale, scarecrow version of Jace that stood before him. He dressed neatly and very expensively. If Sebastian hadn't known what Jace looked like before, he would have thought Jace was the epitome of casual, glamorous and obviously well monied standoffishness. The faint lines in his face added a roughness to his look that would intimidate most people. It seemed to broadcast Jace was someone you didn't want to tangle with even if he still possessed a pretty face. It was battle worn now and … reckless.

And just as these thoughts formed in Sebastian's head, Jace seemed to notice him. His eyes widened abruptly and a current ran through them. This may have been a terrible idea, thought Sebastian.

"I know you," Jace said and headed closer to Sebastian, his gaze intent on Sebastian, searching his face for answers. "I feel like I should know you … like there's something between us." The concentration on Jace's face was intimidating. "Were we … friends?" he asked, clearly frustrated and perplexed.

"We," Sebastian noticed Jace's grandmother swivel around to face him. The air around him felt colder, "were on the football team together."

Jace's eyebrows lifted, surprised. Sebastian wondered if he should take that as an insult.

"Really? You weren't at camp" Jace remarked.

"I had a family thing over the summer. Couldn't get out of it," Sebastian explained.

"Wow," a smile appeared on Jace's face that had Sebastian wondering if he was being set up.

"So, how great was that season?" Jace remarked enthusiastically. Now his eyes lit up, nowhere near the sickeningly bright cast that used to flow from them but it was something, a very small something that warned Sebastian some part of the Jace he had known was still there.

"Do you remember?" Sebastian asked.

"No," Jace frowned a little. "But I read about it. The doctors and grandmother thought it might help … to remember. It sounds like all that hard work over the summer … Jonathan … really pulled through," Jonathan's grin returned but there was a melancholy to it. "I wish … Jonathan would visit."

"Well," Sebastian couldn't help responding. "Jonathan doesn't even know … about your accident and anyway," he could feel Madame Herondale's steely glare, "you and he are not exactly best friends." He was making a real mess of this. He didn't have to look at Madame Herondale to know she would fully agree. Maybe she was regretting bringing him here but something forced him to continue.

"What do you mean?" Jace was puzzled, a deep furrow between his brows. "We got along great."

"That was before," Sebastian explained. "Before you met his sister."

"Now, Jace," Imogen interrupted just as Jace's frown smoothed away and he burst out laughing.

"No," Jace choked out, "Please tell me I didn't," shaking his head, a smirk on his face. "That's right. I remember Jonathan said his sister was a redhead." Jace shrugged. "It's a weakness. Damn, I really thought I could just stay away from her."

Sebastian knew what he had to do. "Do you remember her?"

Jace looked at him oddly while Imogen watched Jace carefully. "No. Should I?"

Sebastian swallowed. "You two were pretty close. She … loves you. I know she's waiting for you."

"Really," Imogen sounded calm but Sebastian could feel the tension in her voice. "Jace, she was a high school fling. She knew you were leaving for University. I'm sure she's accepted that your time together has ended."

Jace kept his eyes on Sebastian. "Why would you bring her up? Were we … still together? Why hasn't she come to see me?"

Imogen reached out and placed a hand on Jace's shoulder. "Darling, we have our own plans for your future and she has nothing to do with them. I thought it best that we cut any ties with her now. You don't want to continue stringing her along needlessly, do you? It was one thing during high school, when you had to … appease her brother, but now, you are all leading separate lives."

Jace was silent and then nodded. He seemed to accept this explanation but then, "So, I dated her … for a while, I guess. How long?"

"For a year," Sebastian wished he could stop but he had to do this. "I think you cared for her."

Jace's eyebrows shot up. He looked … shocked.

"The thing is," it was time to lay his cards out and see where it would take him. "I love her, Jace. I know you and your grandmother have other … plans and I want you to know I'll take care of her. You don't need to worry about her, someone you can't even remember. But I … I can't go back to her and pretend to her, that I didn't tell you the truth. I … I want your … blessing. I want to be able to tell her that you're okay and you want her to be happy ... without you, with me. Can I do that, Jace?"

Something sparked in Jace's eyes. They seemed to blaze when he shook his head, "No. She's mine," and then they almost immediately extinguished and he seemed flabbergasted by his own reaction and … scared. "I don't know why I said that. I don't understand." His face contorted. "I don't know why … I just … I feel like … there's something I …"

Jace's grandmother stood over him and embraced him, patting his head in a soothing motion. "Sebastian shouldn't be bothering you with this, darling. I understand. I know it must be terrible, missing an entire year of your life, but I am here for you and we will put it all back together. You mustn't worry. That part of your life is over. Would you like to go out tonight? I'll ask the doctor. You should be able to take Erica out to dinner. Would you like that?"

Jace nodded blankly. His eyes dulled again, momentarily filled with spirit and now a bored moroseness returned. "Yes, thank you, grandmother." He lifted his face up to his grandmother while she hovered above his seat. "You've been very understanding."

He turned back to Sebastian, his grandmother stood by him, resting a hand over his shoulder. "You seem like a good guy, Sebastian, and you really do seem to … love this girl. You should … go to her. Tell her I don't remember her and … she'd be lucky to have you."

Sebastian breathed out with relief. "Thank you, Jace. I do love her. I will make her happy. I … I wish you well … with everything. I'm … sorry this happened to you. Can you … can you write this to her … in a letter? I can bring it to her. She … she might have a hard time letting go … without it."

Sebastian wondered if he went too far. A fire seemed to return to Jace's eyes, a glowing ember in his golden eyes as he wavered but his grandmother's grip over him tightened and the glow gradually died away. "Alright, if that would help. I … I don't want to hurt anybody."

"I'll go get some stationery," Jace's grandmother volunteered cheerfully. She stepped briskly out of the room, leaving Jace and Sebastian staring at each other.

"So," Sebastian felt the need to break the heavy silence. "Who's Erica?"

Jace relaxed and sat back in his chair. "She's a resident here. That's how we met. Red hair," he ended as if that explained everything.

"So she knows you're leaving and … everything?" Sebastian wondered.

"Well, I haven't exactly told her all my plans," Jace looked away, bored, "but she's a doctor. She's smart enough to know I'm not going to live here. It's just something to do … to pass the time." Jace sat up then and fixed a hard look at Sebastian. "You said I cared for her?"

Sebastian nodded lightly. "Yes, you did."

Jace sat back again and looked away wonderingly. "Hard to imagine. I've never … cared about any girl before, other than Alex, my best friend. She hasn't come to see me either." Jace frowned.

"I think your grandmother is just … very careful about who you should see," Sebastian suggested. "She wants to make sure you're ready, doesn't want you to stress out, I guess."

Jace closed his eyes and brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Maybe … maybe I should meet her. Maybe it would help."

Sebastian's heart began hammering. He didn't have to think this one through. If Jace saw Clary he felt certain … all his hopes would be dashed and … what was he doing? Did he want to help them, to find each other again, or did he want his chance? How much did he love her? What was it worth? Did he love her more than he loved himself? Yes, yes he did and he also loved her more than Jace ever could. He had waited, in the background, all this time, while Jace fucked up over and over again and this time, this was his time.

"She doesn't belong in your world," Sebastian answered. "You two have had a few bumps and your grandmother never approved. If you go back to her, she'll never let you leave. I know her. She has her heart set on you and unless you break it, she won't give you up."

Jace opened his eyes then and they remained narrowed and thoughtful. "How could she force me to stay? Girls have tried to keep me but there's really nothing they can do. How can she force me?"

"Please, Jace," Sebastian begged and he hated himself for it. "Please let me have her. You don't even know her. If you go back to her, you'll have to give everything up. Everything you know your life to be, your grandmother, your money, everything."

Jace's grandmother returned then and walked over to a writing desk by the wall. "Come, darling. Let's get this over with. I've already cleared your evening out with the doctor. You can have a nice night and enjoy yourself."

Jace stood up and moved a bit hesitantly to the table. He took the pen his grandmother handed him and lowered himself over the paper to begin writing.

"I don't even know her name," he said.

"Clary," Sebastian offered and held his breath.

* * *

Sebastian entered the room. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. There were no lights on and the shades were drawn. It was dark and quiet.

"Clary?" he called out. He knew she was here. He had come straight to her home once he arrived back at Idris.

Her Aunt Hodge had actually been glad to see him, even almost accusingly asked him where he'd been.

"Clary hasn't been herself. She won't see any of her friends. Hasn't been out for anything other than school for over a month. Just goes to school and then straight to her room. She doesn't make a sound in there. I told her I need to know she's breathing every once in a while so she doesn't lock it," she quickly explained. "Please help her. She won't talk to me. I know something's happened with Jace. He hasn't called or come to see her. You have to do something."

So he was quickly ushered to her room and left alone to see her.

"Can I turn on some lights?" he asked. It would be helpful to see something, even if it was just his own two feet in front of him.

"No," her voice was soft and then he heard a click nearby where her voice came from and a soft white light beamed out from the small lamp by her night table.

She lay back on her bed, over the covers, her hair fanned out around her head, fully clothed and eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing, Clary?" Sebastian asked and moved over to her. He sat by her side on the bed and looked down at her.

"I'm lying here. What does it look like?" she answered.

Sebastian was struck by how much her voice sounded like Jace's, lifeless and dull.

"Clary," Sebastian said gently and brushed the hair away from her face lightly. "Why didn't you tell me? About Jace?"

Her eyes moved onto his and there was a hardness and a sorrow in them that felt like a blow.

"Tell you what?" she asked in a ragged whisper. "What is it you think you know, Sebastian?" She slowly lifted herself and sat up.

"I know he hasn't been here, that you haven't heard from him for more than a month," Sebastian replied.

Clary shook her head. "You don't know anything." She turned her head and was about to lie down again, on her side, facing away from Sebastian, when he grabbed her arm and turned her back around to face him.

"I've seen him, Clary. I've talked to him," he told her.

She stiffened and her eyes widened. There was a clear brimming hope in them now. "What did he say?"

"First, tell me what happened," Sebastian spoke levelly.

Her face turned down and she shook a little. "I … I drove him away. I … I have to see him. I have to make this right," she lifted her face and she grabbed at Sebastian's arms. "He won't answer my calls, my texts. I've sent him emails and letters. I may just have to sneak off to visit him at Harvard but there will be hell to pay with my Aunt. I've asked if I could go and she forbade me." Clary's face soured, "but I've got to do something. Help me, Sebastian."

"Clary," Sebastian tried to calm her. "First tell me how you drove him away."

Her eyes dropped and tears began streaming down her cheeks. "He asked me to marry him and … I told him we weren't ready and … he thinks I don't want him but … that's just crazy. I just … I didn't think we were ready for that yet. We're … just kids," her voice cracked and she started crying heartily.

Sebastian took her in his arms and held her while her crying grew jagged. His spirit soared when he felt her small hands clutch onto his back.

"Please help me, Sebastian," she gulped out. "You've seen him. Where is he?"

"I have a letter. He wrote it for you," Sebastian moved back to pull out the letter from the inner pocket of his blazer. He held it out to her.

She looked down at it and then took it in her hands, carefully unfolding it. The paper crackled as she held it out to read. Sebastian watched her wide green eyes move left to right, devouring the short lines that Jace wrote to her.

He thought about how Jace had sat at the desk, how he couldn't hide a slight tremble to his hand as he slowly wrote out the words. He seemed to have trouble forming the sentences so his grandmother helpfully stood over him and suggested a few phrases.

"Short and succinct, that would be best, dear," Madame Herondale told him.

Sebastian could see she was making quite an effort. She was really trying to comfort Jace, to have him lean on her but there was a rigidity in the way she glided her hand down his head to pat at his back that made it clear she was unused to such demonstrations. The way Jace tensed at her touch told Sebastian he was no more comfortable with this interaction from his grandmother but it seemed to have the desired effect when he started writing. Sebastian had already read the letter and could guess at the impact it would have on her.

 _Dear Clary_ , it began. The name, Clary, was almost illegible. Seemed Jace had some difficulty spelling it out.

 _I'm writing to tell you I've moved on and you should do the same._

 _Whatever we were to each other doesn't exist anymore._

 _Have a good life._

 _~ Jace_

Sebastian watched her blinking, uncomprehending, in complete disbelief. He watched her face alternate between bafflement and then suspicion and then she recognized the handwriting. She knew Jace wrote these words and then her eyes … shut down. There was a blankness behind them he had never seen before. It frightened him. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Clary, are you there?" It seemed like a stupid question but there was no trace of her behind her eyes.

"He wrote this," she said, an eerie calm permeated her voice.

"Please, Clary, don't shut me out," Sebastian lowered his face to level with hers. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

Her eyes flickered up at him. He could see doubt in them. How could she doubt him … after everything?

"Clary –," he began.

"No, Sebastian. You don't know everything," she breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. "I'm pregnant. I just found out about a week ago."

Sebastian was speechless. He only stared at her, his mind completely blank.

"So you see," Clary continued, the strange unnatural calm remaining in her voice. "You'll want nothing to do with me. I'm pretty sure no one will want anything to do with me soon enough. I was taking something but … I guess I stopped too soon. I wasn't thinking straight after our … disagreement and I just forgot to keep … and well … I'm having Jace's baby and … no … there is no other option. I'm having this baby and I'm keeping it. I'm just … so afraid and … so alone and … Jace … doesn't want me." She stopped then and looked away.

Sebastian opened his mouth but nothing came out. He really had no idea what to say but then suddenly it all made sense. This was the way it was supposed to be. This was the way it had to be.

"I'm not going anywhere. I said I'll always be here for you and I meant it. I … I'll marry you if that's what you want … I'm not letting you go through this alone. You'll never be alone as long as I'm breathing." The words expelled out of him and once he got them out he felt … relief.

She looked at him amazed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," he answered. He wrapped her hands in his.

"But why?" she asked.

"Because I'm truly, madly, eternally in love with you," he spoke from his heart and he thought he could see something new in her eyes.

"But … I'm having Jace's child. How are you going to feel about it?" she asked, the bewildered expression on her face along with this new … thing in her eyes.

"I'll love it, boy or girl, because it's a part of you," he answered.

She looked down at his hands over hers and she sank into him. "Sebastian," she breathed out.


	26. Chapter 26 Something Changed

**Thank you for your reviews. They're great even if they're almost all telling me "Nooooooo!" Love the enthusiasm.**

* * *

Jace took a few deep breaths and then took a long look at the clear skies above Central Park. It was really good to be out again … and alone. Just having the luxury of this solitary run through the park brought him some much needed peace even if it wasn't exactly quiet. He thought he was pretty much back to his peak physical form, a bit leaner, but he didn't need the football bulk anymore. His hair had grown out, just below the nape of his neck, and it felt more comfortable at this length.

They would be heading off to England by the end of the week. His grandmother had pulled several strings tight to get him into Cambridge mid semester but she always told him everyone has a price, even a centuries old, venerated and storied institution.

He had already met his intended fiancé, Marchioness Sofia Halloran. She was … nice … he supposed. They didn't spend much time alone but she was clearly well bred, didn't talk too much or too little, her dress perfectly in place, a perfectly modulated smile on her face. He wasn't surprised at the way her eyes travelled up and down his body and visibly brightened when they landed on his face during their introductions. He was well used to this reaction from any woman he met but it got a little tiresome. He supposed she was beautiful in a very well polished and supremely manicured way. She wore little makeup but everything was just so, every hair, every crease, every line on her dress was all meticulously crafted. She had mid length strawberry blond hair and looked about 5'6". At least the slight red tinge to her hair was a plus but he couldn't help the automatic notion that he'd prefer someone a little smaller, at least for a wife. He didn't know where that came from since he couldn't remember ever dating anyone under 5'4" … but whatever.

They had a few meals together and surprise, surprise, there were photographers snapping away as they entered and left the restaurants. He wondered why this was necessary but when he saw the society pages the following day his questions were answered. It seemed a grand announcement was made that Jace Herondale, heir to the Herondale business, had a new girlfriend and would soon be residing in England to be closer to her, Marchioness Sofia Halloran. There was every indication that the two were quite serious and headed toward a formal commitment.

When Grandmother had proposed this arrangement, Jace could barely speak and he couldn't feel anything but a pervasive numbness, as if nothing in the world mattered anymore. He wasn't sure if he were glad he survived the accident. It felt like he lost more than a year of his life. It felt like he lost his entire reason for living and it made no God damn sense. So, he honestly didn't care what plans she made for him.

But slowly, gradually, something was coming back to him. Not memories, nothing specific, just a feeling. A feeling that there was something incredibly important that he'd forgotten, something that would turn his life upside down, something that would make his life worth living in a way he couldn't even imagine and … that was it. He appreciated how much his grandmother doted on him but it felt … wrong … suffocating. He supposed he was being ungrateful but lately he couldn't help wondering what was her angle? Why was she so attentive, so solicitous? What was she gaining from this? And then he'd feel guilty for assigning ulterior motives to her behavior. It was just she had never previously shown a quarter of the caring interest she seemed to shower on him now. Maybe she was just a human being and actually cared for her only living relative. Maybe this close call to Jace's life was a wake up call for her. He didn't know. He just knew he was beginning to feel that moving to England and going along with this arranged engagement was the biggest mistake of his life.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he had to admit his life since he gained consciousness after the accident felt like a series of mistakes, one right after another. Erica. Erica had been a big one. Considering the circumstances, he supposed he deserved some slack but looking back he didn't know what he'd been thinking. Well, yeah, he hadn't been thinking … at all. As soon as the constant pain subsided, sometime after the fourth week in the hospital, he realized the uncomfortable tightness he'd been experiencing was in fact a raging hard-on and as inexplicable as that was (like, why in the world would he be so keyed up for sex after all this shit his body had just been through), he really had to deal with this problem but it turned out it was an even bigger problem than he thought. Because despite said raging hard-on, none of the females that crossed his path were remotely appealing. Several were attractive enough, but they didn't do anything for him and just as he was beginning to think he might have lost his mind, Erica appeared and the bells started ringing. He just caught sight of her bright red hair, a bit of a tangled mess, pinned back away from her face. He could tell it was natural and that he was going to see how that color looked between her legs. It became a mission to have her bent over, legs spread, while he pumped into her and although she was a little reluctant, she was almost ten years his senior and she was already in a committed relationship, he successfully completed that mission within a week. It was a relief to drain himself and even while he was making her come, he knew he should end it immediately but damn, he needed it and he had yet to see another girl who he had any desire to fuck.

It was almost torture, the nightly dreams he started having. He was with someone, a small redhead was all he could tell, and it was completely insane. He could never see her face but he knew she was the most perfect creature there could ever be and the way they fit together was like they were fated pieces of a puzzle that had been precisely created to match each other. Every curve, every ridge, every single inch of flesh between them was made for one another. He actually woke up a few times to a royal mess and he knew he needed to keep Erica around, at least for a while, unless he wanted to deal with nightly accidents.

So they had been screwing at least daily for about three weeks when he finally decided he was sufficiently cleared out and he had to end it. He told her he was leaving the hospital the following day. He was deemed well enough to get on with his life, out of the hospital, and move into the penthouse his grandmother kept in the city. Fortunately she chose to stay at the townhouse. He used to wonder why she needed so many residences in the same city but now he was just thankful that they could have some space from each other. It felt claustrophobic knowing she was somewhere close, in the same building, possibly right outside his door.

Erica responded by losing her shit. She practically tore the room apart and ultimately had to be restrained by security guards and hauled away. Grandmother decreed Erica would never practice medicine again but Jace knew this was his fault and pleaded with her. Just smooth it away. You're an expert on that, Jace told her. Send her on a paid vacation. Just let her get away from all of this for a while and she'll get over it. It took more persuading and he traded some additional photo ops with Sofia where he'd play nice, even give an interview, and Grandmother grudgingly agreed. She would send Erica to a remote tropical paradise for two months. She'd take care of everything with the hospital. Erica could resume her residency after this 'mental health break.'

He had really thought Erica's maturity, her medical ambitions, everything that seemed to keep her life busy and full outside of their brief moments together would make some kind of difference; that she wouldn't attach herself to him the way so many girls had before her. But maybe the comparison wasn't fair. He'd never been with a girl for as long as he'd been with Erica, almost three weeks. He'd always cut them off before he had them a third time, even twice was rare, and still he had encountered some serious stalkers. But then that wasn't exactly true, was it? Out here, in the semi fresh open air of Central Park, his thoughts could touch on it. He had in fact been with a girl longer, or so he'd been told, much longer, and the idea of it had his stomach twisting, a panic rising up his gut. He couldn't even say her name. Thinking it brought a sharp pain to his chest. When Sebastian had said it, he felt as if someone smashed him in the head and then when he tried to write it, he thought he might be having a heart attack.

And there it was, the coup de grace, the big headline mistake that he wasn't even sure was a mistake but he couldn't shake it, it wouldn't leave him. He had nightmares since that day. He was an unseen consciousness hovering above his body, seated at the desk. His grandmother and Sebastian were both watching him intently. He could feel them willing him to complete the letter. The pen was pressed down hard against the paper leaving a deep imprint of the words he wrote painstakingly. It wasn't a long letter but it felt like it took forever to complete. But then he was done and he still had both hands against it, holding it down. What was he waiting for? His grandmother spoke the words aloud that were floating in his head. She pulled the paper out from beneath his hands and read them, nodding her head.

"Perhaps you should say you're sorry?" she asked remotely, considering the pros and cons of this addition.

"No," Jace answered roughly. "I'm not writing anything else."

"Fine," his grandmother said in a benevolent voice. "This is good enough."

"You'll tell her?" Jace turned to Sebastian. "You'll explain what happened?" He didn't know why it mattered. He didn't know her. He didn't care, did he? Why should he care? But he felt sick. He felt ill, his mind dancing fretfully around her name and the few lines he wrote. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to be the intended recipient of this letter and it made him want to throw up.

Imogen handed the letter to Sebastian. He had the decency not to read it in front of Jace. He folded it quickly and deftly placed it into his jacket.

"I'll tell her what she needs to know," Sebastian answered consolingly, "so she can get over you."

"What –," Jace began.

"That's enough excitement today, my dear," Imogen interrupted. "You should take a nap now. I've brought something to help you rest," she held up the small white paper cup that held his medication, some mind numbing drug that put him to sleep in minutes. The Jace that inhabited the body took the small paper cup while the invisible Jace that watched the entire scene mutely urged him to stop. Don't take that shit. Take a good look at that pale, black haired turd. You can feel it. There's something wrong about him. There's something … you loathe about him. And then he woke up, panting, cringing from this dream as if he were a child and he was chased by vicious monsters, ready to tear him apart.

Jace ran to the gym he'd been frequenting. Lifting weights would help. It would clear his head. He also had to mentally gird himself for tonight. It was Lady Sofia's last night in Manhattan. She and her family were headed back to their estate early tomorrow morning and even though they planned to see each other soon, the Herondales were flying out next week, his grandmother insisted on a grand farewell party. It was more of a farewell party for Jace and his grandmother as far as he was concerned. She didn't expect to return to America for a while and even spoke of selling their Idris Manor. She mentioned it but he wouldn't consider letting go of the house his grandfather left him. He hadn't spent much time there but his grandfather had meant for him to keep it and it was important to him. He could tell she didn't like it. Her lips curled in a sure sign of her dissatisfaction but she left it alone and only ventured that they would discuss it again at a later time.

So, she was hosting a costume party at her townhouse. It had a ballroom. She seemed pretty jazzed about it. Peculiar to see this level of excitement out of her, but if it made her happy … he wasn't going to complain.

He was deep into his routine when he resolved to correct one mistake he knew for sure was a mistake and something he could fix. He had to call Alex. He was annoyed, hurt, that she hadn't reached out to him. You'd think she'd care enough to call at least, but nothing, and he'd peevishly decided he wouldn't contact her either. But if this was really happening, the move to England, Cambridge University, an engagement, then he had to speak to her. He had to talk to someone who didn't have a vested interest in this move. And it would just be good to hear her voice. He had always trusted Alex to tell him the truth. He felt a little lighter after making this decision.

* * *

Jace looked down at the costume hanging in front of the floor length mirror next to the walk-in closet. He groaned loudly. Well, at least she didn't send the Prince Charming costume she'd been waxing about. He knew he should have picked one out himself but he was not looking forward to the party and wanted as little to do with the preparations as he could manage. It was his own stupid fault.

He plopped down on the armchair. It was becoming all too clear he did not have much in common with Lady Sofia. Grandmother encouraged him to take up her offer to procure his costume. He should get used to her, get accustomed to their 'partnership,' learn to work together, blah, blah, blah. He hadn't really cared what she chose but made it clear … absolutely no princely garb when she was planning out a Cinderella and Prince Charming couple's costume. Not only did the idea of dressing up as a prince make him gag, but it was so played out. He wondered idly if he would always have to call her Lady Sofia.

He flexed the aching muscles on his arms and back. Sore, in a good way. Bare chested with only the light cotton pants he pulled on after a long shower, he reached for the phone by the side of his bed. He was a little anxious about making the call. They couldn't have spoken for almost three months now. They had always met up at least weekly but that was before last year, before college. Who knew whether their relationship changed during the course of his missing year. Maybe they … lost touch? It seemed unlikely but that was more likely than that he'd been steadily dating a girl for an entire year. He had to stop thinking about it. He was out of it now.

Yeah, right out of the frying pan and into the fire. He was about to betroth himself to another woman. Someone who at best he tolerated but usually stirred up a mild annoyance in him for no other reason than that he was feeling railroaded at her. He didn't give a shit about her title, her estate, her money, so why was he doing it? Because it didn't matter. It never mattered. You don't care about girls except … except Sebastian said he cared for her … ugh … he had to stop. He wished he never met Sebastian … but at the same time something changed since they met. A tingling, electric energy surrounded him, that got him up and running, got him back in shape, made him feel like there was something to look for, to look forward to. Still, he would have to have a serious conversation with Sofia … Lady Sofia.

He figured there should be no surprises. His grandmother assured him there would be no "ugliness" with Sofia, no unreasonable expectations, but he felt a growing distrust of his grandmother's claims and anyway, it would just make sense to make certain that the conditions of their future relationship was mutually acceptable to both of them. No sense uprooting his life and pretending at some everlasting bond between them if they couldn't agree on the boundaries. So far, during their half dozen meetings, they spoke as polite acquaintances. No mention of anything beyond the meal, the weather, how the Hallorans were enjoying the city. But of course she must have seen the society pages, the declarations of their serious relationship. The following day she even leaned in for a kiss and seeing how there were photographers snapping away at them he felt as if he had no choice but to oblige, except it landed gently on her cheek instead of her slightly puckered lips.

He dialed Alex's cell number. He didn't know her dorm number at Notre Dame. He was glad to hear she made it with the full scholarship no less, although he'd always figured that was a given. An escalating disappointment rose up in him as he listened to the second, third, fourth unanswered rings … and then it went to voicemail. At least he knew it was still Alex's number when her recorded voice came on the line to say she couldn't answer but "leave a message or text me." Jace hung up. He needed to get a new cell phone. Funny that he hadn't realized he was even missing it. He would hook it up with his old number. He'd take care of that later today, maybe tomorrow.


	27. Chapter 27 A Picture

There were actually some unforeseen benefits to the costume, Jace thought, as he leaned over the bar. The mask hid half his face and the long cape was draped over his body. He had even found some temporary black hair color and that along with the top hat, mask and some strategic posing made his costume very effective at avoiding recognition. Although there was no way to lose Lady Sofia. She of course knew very well how he would appear and seemed to have decided they should be attached at the hip. He quickly drank back the scotch whiskey in his hand. He supposed now was as good a time as any to have the talk with her.

"Lady Sofia, could we have a … private conversation? Perhaps on the terrace, right outside the ballroom?" he managed hoping he infused this request with the right amount of courteous solicitude with absolutely no romantic overtures.

She daintily patted the long brown ringlets of her wig and looked up at him coyly while lowering her head, a small smile and blush appearing on her face. "Certainly."

He led her behind the heavy curtains that hid the terrace doors and stepped out. Fortunately they were only a few steps away and did not attract any attention with their movements.

"Are you cold? Would you like my cape?" he asked. It was cool out in the evening hours on this late November day.

"Thank you," she nodded.

He pulled off the cape and draped it around her shoulders careful to keep any physical contact to a minimum.

"Do you like our costumes?" she asked, the light smile on her face.

He looked her over. With the long brown curls, small white flowers pinned around its crown, the poufy white dress cinched tight at the waist, he supposed she achieved the princess look after all without actually dressing as a princess.

"Yes," it was a small white lie and he did like the way he could hide in his own costume. "I hope it wasn't much trouble for you."

"Of course not, darling," she tittered.

Oh no, thought Jace.

"My assistant acquired several choices," she stopped then, reflecting, "although I did spend considerable time going through the options and selecting the right pair."

She was serious.

"I'm so pleased you approve," the simpering smile arrived back on her face.

"Do you mind if I call you Sofia?" he blurted out. Honestly, if he was going to marry her, he should be able to speak to her a little less formally.

Jace watched her wryly as she considered this request. Clearly this was a momentous decision.

"Very well," she nodded as if she were conferring a great honor, " but only in private, of course."

"Oh, of course," Jace agreed, doing his best to maintain a serious expression, biting the insides of his cheeks to hide the laughter bubbling up.

He leaned down, his elbows against the terrace balustrade. He looked out at the view. It was quite beautiful. The broad green expanse of Central Park and the twinkling array of lights from the surrounding tower of buildings stood before them. Another feeling popped up, a wish that he could share this view with … someone, not Sofia, that much was certain. A momentary depression sunk into his bones before he shook it off. He had things to do and … there was something else … was it hope? Whatever it was it told him not to give up. If he tried hard enough, he would find it. This thing that would make every moment of life shine brighter than the stars above his head. Somehow he knew this to be true and an involuntary smile formed on his lips.

"So you wanted to discuss something, Jace?" Sofia asked at his side.

Jace turned to her then, the smile still on his face. She gasped softly and gazed up at him dreamily. The smile disappeared.

"Yes," Jace confirmed and wished he had another drink. He had a sinking feeling this was not going to be as clear cut as he'd been told. "So the thing is, I think we should both be fully aware of what this arrangement will be between us."

"Oh, Jace," Sofia sighed. "I'm so glad we can talk about it." She didn't give him a chance to continue. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time. I first noticed you four years ago."

Jace stared at her stunned. "Four years ago? I was –"

"It was your society debut and everyone noticed," she went on breathily. "Even my parents, such sticklers about the separation of classes, keeping to nobility, but there was no way anyone could ignore you and each time you came out, not nearly enough I might add," she pouted a little, "each time you got better and better. You are glorious, Jace."

Jace leaned away from her, horrified. This was going from bad to worse. He had never been called glorious before. He hoped she was putting him on. That had to be a joke, right? You couldn't seriously call another human being glorious.

"And then," she didn't register his growing discomfort at all, "that last appearance at the Idris Museum. You had a girlfriend." She paused for a moment, as if she had were shouldering a heavy and unhappy weight. "You introduced her as your girlfriend. You never did that before and I knew. I knew I had to meet you. Or else someone would claim you … someone … undeserving. I can give you everything you should have from a wife and everything your family is missing. You won't find anyone with a finer pedigree and we have very close ties to the royal family and Parliament. We can keep my title and even pass it down to our children. I'll make you a Lord. I know it's virtually unprecedented but I will make it happen … for you, Jace, only for you."

Jace took a step back from her. "Okay, Sofia. I think there has definitely been some miscommunication. I don't –"

"There's no misunderstanding, darling." She stepped toward him and pulled a small glossy magazine photo from her bodice. "See, I keep a picture of you, by my heart, always." She held it up as if this was the answer to everything.

A flash of fiery red in the picture drew his eyes and he took the photo from her outstretched fingers.

"Who is that?" he asked in a whisper.

"Oh her?" Sofia spoke a little sulkily. "I should have cut her out but it gave me some motivation," her face became decidedly determined. "I knew I had to rescue you from girls like her."

He didn't notice that she sidled up next to him as they both looked down to examine the photo. She tried to take it from him but he would not let go.

"Who is she?" he asked again. The photo had been cut out without the customary tabloid blurb describing the shot.

Sofia looked up at him, a confident and unperturbed expression on her face. "Of course you'd forget her by now. She's obviously nobody. That picture was taken almost six months ago."

"Clary," he stumbled backwards, still holding the picture tight in his hands. He stood directly beneath the lamplight. A zinging sensation went through his chest but he had to see. He had to see her. He pulled up the photo and let the image of her burn into him.

They stood so close to each other their bodies seemed connected. He held her tight, his hand visibly gripping her tiny waist, the other hand encasing hers. She looked a little frightened by the flashbulbs. Her wide eyes reflected the sparkling white lights directed at her but she … was glorious, completely and utterly spectacular. She was ethereal in a gossamer chiffon gown. Her hair was a halo of fiery curls. Her eyes were so green, so bright and so full of life he was … he couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak.

"She … loved … me," he said slowly. He was feeling an almost deranged, heady spin. He could feel the world shifting around him. He didn't know what was happening to him. "She loved me," he repeated and then it all collapsed around him. Sofia pulled the picture away from his weakened grasp.

"I told her … to move on … that we didn't exist." He wrote that. He wrote that and let them give it to her. "I told him … to go to her … I told him."

He pulled the half mask off his face. "Why?" he choked out. "Why?"

"Whatever is the matter, darling?" Sofia attempted to soothe him with a light caress to his arm.

"I don't understand," he gasped. "I have to get out of here." He swung back. His hand was on the terrace door, ready to run out when Sofia pulled back hard against his forearm.

"How could you possibly leave now?" her voice rose. "We still have the midnight dance. Your grandmother said that we would start that dance. It will be dedicated to us."

Jace turned back to her. He wasn't sure what was on his face but she released him and stepped away from him abruptly.

But she wasn't done yet . "Darling, I realize we haven't known each other long but I think even I know your grandmother well enough to know she will never consent to your leaving before your duties here are completed."

Jace stopped and acted on instinct alone. He fitted the mask back on his face and took the cape from her shoulders. "I'm afraid I'm going to need this," he explained and fastened it around his neck. He bowed, "Thank you, Lady Sofia. Our time together has been quite … enlightening. I'm sure there is another, far worthier of your attentions than myself and I wish you God speed in finding that special partner."

He caught a brief glimpse of the shocked expression on her face before he moved swiftly out the door and surveyed the ballroom crowd. His grandmother stood by the main entrance. He wasn't sure what she was supposed to be but she was dressed all in black. Her shoulders and upper arms were bare in a ball gown that had all the stiffness and flounce of nineteenth century fashion. Her arms were almost completely covered in long silk gloves and great big ostrich feathers billowed above her head. She stood there conversing with the Marquis and his Ladyship along with the Mayor and some stodgy billionaire with his third wife.

He would make his escape through the servant's entrance. No one would be watching that doorway. He lowered the top hat and kept his head down, the cape covering as much of his frame as he could manage while he made his way to the swinging doors. He sighed with relief once he stepped through and raced past the staff to reach the outdoor exit at the back of the kitchens. There was an army of temporary hires for the party who were busy arranging platters, fixing the displays, preparing the refreshments and they took no notice of him as he stepped out in the back alley behind the townhouse. He breathed deeply. He could not stop here. He felt as if he had been thoroughly shaken and twised through a tornado. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and calm his racing heart but he had to get home. He had to get home and he had to get out of here. It wouldn't be long before his grandmother learned of his departure and he had no doubt she would be exceedingly angry.

But he didn't care. She lied to him. He knew she lied to him. She told him he only stayed with her so long to …. appease her brother, that it was for the best, that he had always planned to end things, start a new life once high school was over … and it was all lies.

How did he know this? Because she the girl, the one in his dreams, the one who fit him perfectly. There was no way he would have voluntarily left her. There was no way he would have considered a life without her. She existed, the girl in his dreams and he had known her. Somehow he arrived at the apartment after flagging down a cab, throwing some cash at the driver and running up the stairs. Didn't bother with the elevator, barely nodded at the doormen. He must have run up twenty flights but he couldn't even feel that. He crashed down in the living room, on the couch. He had to see her. He had to meet her … but what then … what would happen?

The phone started ringing. It startled him and he looked down at the caller ID. It wasn't grandmother. It was Notre Dame. He picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he spoke into the phone, his voice uncertain.

"Jace?" the voice, a familiar voice that made Jace want to weep, sounded incredulous.

"Alex," he said softly.

"Jace," Alex replied with a different tone now, a totally pissed off tone. "What the fuck, Jace? What the fuck! Where have you been, asshole? Why haven't you answered my calls, my texts, my emails? What is your malfunction, you shit?"

"Alex," Jace started laughing. "My God, it is good to hear your voice."

"Jace," Alex spoke heavily. "What happened? You just disappeared and then the next thing I know … I hear you're in New York and you've … you've got a new girlfriend and … I can't believe it. I just got this number from a missed call on my cell and I don't know why but I thought of you and … what happened, Jace?" she demanded.

"I was in the hospital, nimrod," Jace responded. "You think I should be answering my messages when I can barely lift a hand. And for that matter, why didn't you visit, call me, send a card, something … anything? Nobody came to see me … except … I mean I know it's across the country from Idris but you're closer than that and anyway I would have covered your trip and I … I would've really been glad to see you. I haven't … I haven't felt like myself in a long time." He had started speaking in a markedly huffy voice but ended in a sad and longing tone.

Jace wondered if they got disconnected when he heard nothing for several minutes. "Alex?"

"What are you talking about, Jace?" Alex finally spoke haltingly. "Why were you in the hospital?"

Jace pulled away from the phone and stared at it disbelievingly, then slowly placed it back to his ear. "Alex, I've been in the hospital for two months. Car accident. It was pretty bad."

"Oh my God," Alex sounded strange. "Oh my God. You're okay? I … I," her voice became uneven and she seemed to be suffering from an uncontrollable case of hiccups. "I … thought … thought … something … awful … happened," and then it was clear she had been trying to suppress an uproar of tears but could do so no longer as she loudly wailed into the phone.

Jace immediately was flooded with guilt. He had never heard or seen Alex cry, ever. "I'm sorry, Alex. Please don't cry. I'm fine now, really. I'm a medical marvel. That's what all the doctors tell me. Don't cry. Shit, I'm sorry!"

Finally, Alex's bawling turned to a sobbing laughter. "What are you apologizing for, you idiot? You almost died … and I had no idea … I … I … thought something might have happened to you. I couldn't understand why you'd shut me out like that but your grandmother told me you were fine, you decided Harvard wasn't right for you and … you were moving, going to Cambridge in England. By the way, what's with the Cambridge thing? Anyway, I kept googling you and finally there you were in New York and you're parading around with some Marquise or Marchioness and shit, I didn't know who you were anymore, Jace. I mean … are you really okay?"

"You spoke with Grandmother?" Jace asked.

"Yes," Alex answered. "I couldn't reach you. Your apartment at Harvard was disconnected so I called your grandmother, spoke to her about … two months ago. She never told me. Why didn't she tell me?" Alex sounded a little heated now.

"I don't know," Jace told her. "I don't understand … Why is she doing this?"

"So, what happened to Clary?" Alex asked in a quiet voice. She sounded … cautious and worried. "She left you?"

"Why would you say that? Why are you asking me about her?" Jace's heart pounded rapidly. He could feel it exploding against his chest.

"Jace," Alex said in a stricken voice. "I know you. I know you would never let her go. You two obviously aren't together anymore, so what am I supposed to think?"

Jace could say nothing. He felt as if his guts were being pulled out. He realized he was breathing through rough, jagged grunts and Alex must be hearing this when she started weeping again. "God, Jace. I'm so sorry. I would never have believed her capable of that. She loves you. I know she loves you. You two were everything together. She will regret it. I know she will. There could never be any two people more right for each other than you two, but … why, why would she do such a stupid, terrible thing, Jace?"

"She didn't do anything," Jace managed to spit out. "I ended it … I don't know her, Alex."

Alex sucked in her breath loudly with disbelief. "You ended it?" she asked stunned. "Are you crazy?"

"Yes," Jace answered. "Yes, I'm completely mad. I don't know anything. I … can't remember anything from the past year, since the end of summer before Senior Year. I never knew her, Alex."

"What are you saying, Jace?" Alex murmured.

"I had a head injury," Jace caught his breath again. "That was the worst of it, the only thing that didn't heal. Doctors can't figure it out."

"Jesus," Alex replied. "So, you saw her or you spoke to her and … nothing? I would have thought … you'd know, you'd just know but … I guess life isn't a fairy tale. I mean you … you don't feel anything for her?"

"I'm so confused, Alex," his voice broke. "I don't know. I don't understand what I'm feeling but it sorta feels like I may be … dying."

"Holy shit, Jace!" Alex panicked. "You've got to get back to the hospital. Is anyone else there with you? What kind of incompetent -"

"No, Alex," Jace fought to take the tremor out of his voice. "It's not that. I … I just … I saw her today … less than fifteen minutes ago. I saw a picture of her, of us together and I … I think … I have to … I have to -"

"So, you didn't meet her? She didn't come to see you at the hospital?" Alex asked warily.

"No, no, I don't think she even knows what happened to me," Jace spit out.

"Then how?" Alex wondered. "How did you end it? Jace," Alex sounded almost relieved now, "if you didn't actually see her or speak to her … if you just cut her off like you did with me then this can all be fixed. Jace, I know her. She'll never give up on you. She's probably losing her mind though. I mean I know she was hysterical two months ago when she called me. She told me you two had some disagreement and you weren't answering her calls but I couldn't reach you either and I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't want to freak her out anymore than she was already freaking out when I started freaking out … You should call her. Call her now, Jace. You shouldn't keep her waiting any longer."

"How?" Jace croaked out.

"What do you mean? You dial her number and you call her – wait, do you need her number? Did you forget her number?" Alex reasoned out.

"No – yes – I don't have her number but there's more, Alex," Jace began.

"What?" Alex asked.

"I wrote her a letter. I told her we were over. I told her we didn't exist." It was hard to get the words out over the dry lumps that formed in his throat.

"You're shitting me. You wouldn't do that. You'd never do that." Alex spoke almost angrily.

"I thought it was the right thing to do. It wouldn't be right letting someone I can't even remember pine away for me. I thought she'd be better off. I've never cared for a girl that way. I couldn't believe I made it through a year with someone. I thought maybe the accident was even a good thing. Maybe I was having a real hard time cutting her off because of Jonathan and how could anyone blame me now. I was in a serious accident." Jace knew he was blathering but couldn't stop. "I never considered the possibility that I wanted to be there. I mean that's impossible ... for me ... and ... he ... he said he loves her. I ... I could tell he wasn't lying," he panted.

"What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?" Alex sounded agitated.

"Sebastian. He came to see me. He told me about her. I didn't even know she existed until I met him. He asked me to write the letter." Jace stopped then. He wasn't sure he could speak anymore.

"Jace, I don't know what the fuck is going on but I'm barely scratching the surface when I say you never liked Sebastian and he's never been on your fan club. It doesn't make any sense that he would visit you ... and you wrote a letter to Clary ... for him?" She was bewildered but there was something else in her voice he had never heard before.

"Alex, I ... think I have to see her, speak to her, but I don't ..." Jace didn't know where he was going with this.

"Yes, you should meet her, talk to her. But ... just be ready," she said cautiously.

"What is it?" Jace asked. There was still something in her voice that he couldn't recognize.

"I'll come with you. I'll join you in Idris. You shouldn't be alone," she said softly.

He thought he should tell her it was okay, he would be fine, but he couldn't. He didn't know what he was feeling. There was a foreign excitement brimming through his body. He would see her in person, this creature, this angel on Earth that brought his dreams to a frenzy. But what if he saw her and felt nothing. What if he saw her and felt everything. He couldn't say which would be worse.

"Thank you, Alex. It will be really great to see you. I've missed you," he told her.

"I've missed you too. I'm there for you Jace. Whatever happens, you need to know that," she answered.

Jace realized then what he was hearing in her voice. It sounded like pity.


	28. Chapter 28 If You're Gonna Do It

**Some songs that got me in the mood:**

 **Fire by Pointer Sisters**

 **I'm Your Man by Wham**

 **I Wanna Be Your Lover by Prince**

 **One More Try by George Michael**

* * *

Clary stood in front of the floor length mirror, rotating her body side to side and gliding a hand down her bare belly. It was barely perceptible but the slight swell, a strange and immovable lump of hard flesh, was definitely there. It was frightening … and amazing. She was going to have a baby and tonight she was going to tell her Aunt and her brother. She lifted her fingers to her mouth and started biting at the already gnawed and nubby nails. She sat down on the bed and then let herself lie back. She rolled over so she was face down on the bed when the bedroom door creaked open. Even on the thickly cushioned mattress, she could feel the slope from the added weight and then the comforting touch of a well known arm around her shoulders.

"Pretty soon you won't be able to lie down like this," the voice spoke in its usual lightly joking tone.

"Ugh," Clary groaned. "Thanks for reminding me, like I'm not already spending every minute of every day on that very subject."

"Lighten up, sweetie," Isabelle pulled Clary around to face her. "You're just stressing about tonight. It'll be a breeze once you get it over with."

"Really?" Clary eyed her skeptically. "What am I gonna do when I can't hide it from anyone? Will they let me stay at school? Will I be a complete outcast? How will I support this baby?" she wailed.

"Clary," Izzy stroked Clary's hair and kept one arm steady around her shoulders. They were both sitting up now. "You know you didn't have to do this. You made this choice … and you've got me and Simon and after tonight I know Jonathan and your aunt will be behind you. We will help you figure this out," Izzy told her but Clary could see the worry behind her eyes.

Of course this would be difficult, probably the hardest thing she'd ever have to face in her life, but she had known from the moment she discovered she was pregnant there was no choice but to have and keep this baby. Even now, knowing … he didn't … want her, she knew she could not give it up. Because for her … it had been the truest, purest love that created what was growing inside her now and even if its father had nothing to do with it, to end this creation would be the worst crime she could commit against herself. To end it would kill the truest, purest love that could ever possibly exist. She would not think about how such a love could have been one sided. If she thought anymore about him, about what she was sure he once felt for her but now walked away from she would revert to a catatonic state and she couldn't do that. She had someone else who needed her now and she had to stay strong.

But, thank God for Izzy, Simon too. Finally, she told them the truth, why she couldn't face anyone, what happened with him … she couldn't say his name. She showed Izzy the letter and they had seen the internet posts about him in New York. They were shocked but they were very kind to her and convinced her to tell her family.

Jonathan was returning for Thanksgiving and Clary managed to stall Izzy's urgings by persuading her it would be better to tell him in person. Of course, the closer she got to this moment of truth, the more she thought it would probably have been better to have broken the news over the phone. But now it was D-day. Too late to phone him now. She didn't have the foggiest clue how she would broach the subject. Still, she would not have to face this alone. Both Izzy and Simon volunteered to join her family reunion, be there when she made the grand announcement, but she refused. Both of them had their own family gatherings to attend. She loved them terribly. She was so grateful for them but she knew they had their own lives and there were some things she had to face alone. Well, not exactly alone. She had this new being with her now and as much as it stung, it possessed a similar energy to … its father. When she first sensed it, not long ago, only a little more than a week ago since this aura came over her, she had been struck with a mixture of numbing anxiety and overwhelming happiness. It was a strange combination. She thought perhaps he had returned but them she realized, no, this was emanating from within her own body. It was coming from this new soul vesseled inside herself and then she felt something entirely new.

This unknown entity, still growing and forming, a source of immeasurable physical and emotional havoc had captured her heart and was becoming the most important thing in her life … but besides this constant companion, there was …

"And Sebastian," Clary added to Izzy's list. "There's Sebastian, of course."

Clary watched Izzy's face cloud over. He had become something of a sore point between them. Clary didn't understand why Izzy turned against him. She had gotten along with him pretty well since they had all started hanging out again as friends and Izzy knew it was Sebastian who essentially brought Clary out of her self imposed exile. Izzy was careful not to bring … him … up but she was blunt about her opinion of Sebastian. She didn't trust him. She didn't think he had Clary's best interests in mind. She didn't understand why … Sebastian was the messenger. Why would Sebastian be tasked to relay the letter to her. Clary couldn't answer these questions. Why would he care who sent the letter to her? He made it all too clear in his note that he didn't care any longer so why should it matter if he never liked Sebastian before? In a way, it made sense that it should be Sebastian. It proved his words were true. If he felt anything for her … she knew Sebastian would be the last person he would entrust to deliver his words to her. He never wanted Sebastian alone with her but now … now that he … moved on … perhaps this was his way of pushing her to move on too. Izzy was also adamant that Clary should tell him about the pregnancy. Clary insisted she didn't want his pity or his money but Izzy declared it was immoral to keep him in the dark about his own child.

"You don't have to ask him for anything, even though I think you should. It's not like you've got any money," Izzy stated matter of factly, "But he should have a right to know his own child. You have to tell him. Let him decide."

Clary couldn't bear the idea of seeing him again. He told her they didn't exist anymore. Would he really be anything but violently opposed at the prospect of a child with someone he cast away? This could not be good news for any eighteen year old let alone one who was moving to England to be closer to another woman.

"So, he's still coming over?" The sour look remained on Izzy's face.

"Yes," Clary nodded.

Sebastian's parents would be away. They usually were. Since Sebastian had brought her the letter, they had been practically inseparable. He had even introduced her to his parents. They were typically only home about one week every two months but Sebastian had the company of a housekeeper, cook and butler/driver. It was eye opening to visit his home. She had never thought much about what his life was like outside of their moments together. He never spoke of his family or home. There was an understated elegance to the luxurious apartment complex he resided in that Clary appreciated and his parents were both clearly well bred, extremely polite and lovely to look at. Both mother and father possessed the dark haired good looks that Sebastian clearly inherited but he more closely resembled his father with the same square jaw, thick brows and full lower lip. Except while Sebastian was generally the picture of a darkly brooding prince, his father exuded a winsome lightness that smoothed the more refined edges of his mother's sophisticated and elite grace. She had been hesitant about meeting them at first. She had not had a good experience meeting parents or rather grandparent. Granted, she only ever met the one guardian of a prospective romantic interest but that had been such a miserable failure she was rather convinced that parents just didn't like her … at least not a boyfriend's parents. And, at this point, she supposed that's what he was, right?

They were together all the time. He brought her to school and picked her up every day. They spent the hours after school until he left for home, usually around ten every day. He introduced her to his parents as his girlfriend and it seemed to be an acknowledged fact around school that she was now dating Sebastian. She didn't refute any of it. When people first asked about them she hadn't known how to respond so she answered with a half shrug and nod that had been accepted as an affirmative.

She had overheard a few girls snarkily comment that it couldn't last. There was no way Sebastian would stick around for her. Whatever she used to ensnare J – obviously didn't survive college and Sebastian would get bored of her soon enough. Clary had only registered a dull ache at the mention of … his name and then activated the emotional shutdown she mastered after the first month apart from … him. She didn't feel anything when they mentioned Sebastian and couldn't tell if it was part of her defense mechanisms or if she just didn't care. She knew this was unfair to Sebastian, that she couldn't tell what was happening between them.

His parents had actually seemed to approve of her. His mother's eyes perked up at the sight of her, told her she was lovely and admired her scarlet hair. His father radiated an easy charm. It wasn't hard to see where Sebastian earned his ease with females and remarkably he did not seem to mind the attention from his parents. She had fully expected a cringing reaction from him but instead he smiled contentedly and only appeared to be interested in her comfort. He kept an arm around her constantly and it was soothing but sometimes it reminded her a little too much of – and she squirmed away from the memory. His parents welcomed her into their home and encouraged hr to visit whenever she liked. Sebastian even informed them he had given her a key to their home and they nodded complacently, the slightest rise to their eyebrows the only indication this may not be commonplace.

Clary looked absently at the clock above her desk. Sebastian should be back soon. He had only left to pick up a few more things for the dinner tonight. His cook had prepared a bountiful traditional Thanksgiving meal and his driver had already delivered all the courses to the Fairchild home. She usually did the cooking for their Thanksgiving dinner but she was too keyed up about tonight's confrontation and fluctuating pangs of nausea that she only halfheartedly refused Sebastian's offer to handle all of the meal's preparations. It was easy to persuade her to accept. Aunt Hodge was obviously impressed by the feast that Sebastian herded onto her dining room table and she even gave Clary an approving nod. She seemed to astonish herself when she mouthed "This one's a keeper," at Clary. She shook her head then as if she were dazed and shuffled away after that, mumbling about old age and insanity. It would have made her laugh once but she was too preoccupied by visions of her aunt throwing the delectable dishes at her and ... Jonathan … God, she couldn't even imagine his reaction. She drew a blank there and that was even scarier. Sebastian embraced her when he observed the nervous despair in her eyes and she didn't think twice when she rested her head against his chest, raising her arms around his neck.

"What am I going to say? How can I possibly tell them?" she worried.

She lowered her head, enjoying the feel of his hand caressing the back of her head.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. "Just tell them we're getting married and then we can tell them you're pregnant."

She shook her head firmly. "You know I can't do that. They would all blame you. You shouldn't be saddled with this." She kept her arms around him. "I'm sorry. I should let you go. I know I should but …" she couldn't finish. She didn't know how to end it.

"Please stop," Sebastian held her tightly.

Sometimes if she closed her eyes and stopped breathing she could pretend. She could pretend the arms around her belonged to someone else. She had to stop. She inhaled deeply and lowered her hands.

"There's nowhere else I want to be. I only want you. I can wait until you're ready," he said gently, lifted her face up to meet his and kissed her slowly on the lips, delicately at first but more impassioned with the first brush of their lips. They had kissed many times, sometimes for hours, and each time got better. This time she felt as if she may be dissolving. He was a very, very good kisser. It wasn't hard to lose herself in their kisses but … something, an unconscious comparison to … other kisses that blazed through her body and made everything else in the world fade into some far, far away place … well, that had a way of pulling her out of these moments with Sebastian and would not allow her to go any farther than some fervent kissing and touching. But … sometimes she was just so hungry for a man's touch, to feel wanted and treasured, to feel a man's hard body against her and inside her she would do her best to ignore the way her stomach twisted against the memory of what it had once been, how powerfully consuming and blissfully wonderful it had been. She tried to forget but it was no good. At least … for now. It couldn't be like this forever, could it?

Sebastian was always so patient and he always knew when to back away but this time he didn't. She didn't push him away. She never had to. He consistently knew when she was about to turn away and released her before she ever had to make a move but this time as the kiss deepened, he embraced her tighter against himself so that she could easily feel the stiff, well defined lines of his male body and there was no mistaking how much he wanted her. It made her tremble with her own desire. She had trouble remembering who she was and where they were when he brought his left hand up to tenderly fondle her right breast. They felt fuller now than they were only a week ago and had grown highly sensitive, plumped and swelling over her bra cups. She moaned into his mouth and gasped when his right hand lowered to stroke the curve of her ass.

They separated painfully at the sound of her aunt trudging through the hallway in her slippers. She looked up at his glittering black eyes and they panted in unison.

"Do you want to go to your room?" he asked her, his long black lashes curved over half hooded eyes.

Clary didn't think she could speak. She licked her lips in an attempt to unblock the words in her throat.

Sebastian's eyes widened and he lowered his head so that their foreheads touched. Their eyes were so close, their lasheds fluttered against each other. "I want to suck on that sweet tongue, your breasts, every luscious part of your body all night long."

She didn't think she could deny him. She wanted him more than she had allowed herself to acknowledge. She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted him to make her come ... but then, "My brother will be home any minute."

Sebastian slowly lifted his head and his hands moved to clasp her waist. "So … we'll wait."

The lusty promise in his eyes might have terrified her once, long ago, but now she was fighting against a rising erotic tide of want that couldn't wait to have his mouth back on her.

"I'll go get those pies," he smiled down at her.

The mention of pies made her mouth water and stomach grumble. She wasn't embarrassed when his smile widened and he brought his full lips to her neck. "We'll take care of this first," he said while rubbing her belly sensuously and the feel of his breath against her ear, his hand slowly sweeping up and down her abdomen had her core doing spiraling backflips. "I can't wait for tonight. After you've been fed and then I can eat." He said this in such a sultry way that she felt a hot blush blooming up her cheeks.

She was incredibly confused. She didn't know why or how things had turned this sharp corner between them. All she knew was suddenly, inexplicably, she was ready for something more with Sebastian. There was a smile on his face and an excited glow in his eyes that told her he could read her body and he knew.

"B-but Sebastian," she stuttered. "I'm pretty sure I'll either be locked up or homeless after tonight."

"You're staying with me." His burning eyes made her feel powerless to resist. "And then you can decide … if you want to be mine." She thought she might faint from the heat billowing between them. The type of heat she hadn't felt in a long time or … allowed herself to feel. She started to shake her head. No, she couldn't do this. She was carrying … someone else's child.

"Please Clary. Give me this chance. Let me show you how good it can be," he pleaded.

There was a desperate hope on his face. His dark, midnight eyes were so full of longing … and love, so very different from the colors that possessed her heart … had possessed her heart … but … she was letting go now.

"Alright, Sebastian," she murmured, "if either of us survive, I'll … stay with you tonight … but, you really don't have to do this."

The exhilaration on Sebastian's face was like a balm to her frayed soul. He loved her. She believed it. Of course … it helped that he would tell her constantly, every day, with each greeting and goodbye. When he first told her, it had not been welcome. She cared for him too much to want that. She knew it could only hurt him then but now … now that the reason … no longer existed … now … she could feel a return of those feelings germinating. She was scared to let it flourish. What if he meant it now but then it all came to another disastrous end. Was there something wrong with her? Maybe she couldn't sustain this kind of love. Maybe she was only meant to be loved for brief periods? She was fairly certain she could never love another man with the same ardor, abandon, with all of her being. She had her once in a lifetime. She was sure of it and it seemed wrong to … limit Sebastian this way. Suppose she held onto him and because of that he missed his once in a lifetime. She would try to explain this to him. She had to make sure he understood even if it meant losing him. He had done so much for her. She could not hold him back, rob him of knowing that kind of unforgettable, all encompassing love that she wouldn't, even now, trade for anything in the world.

"You've made me so happy," Sebastian whispered, his hand warm against her cheek. "I promise you'll never have a reason to regret loving me. I love you," he told her and then left with assurances he'd be back before she could think of missing him.

Her eyes glazed over trying to make sense of it all. It was useless to ever plan anything since her life had veered from one extreme to the other since that fateful day. It seemed so long ago … that she first laid eyes on him.

"You know you have to tell him," Izzy repeated in a stern voice that Clary had unhappily heard too often lately.

Clary tried to look away but Izzy wasn't having it.

"It's the only right thing to do. You haven't even spoken to him. That's some bullshit," she huffed.

Clary shut her eyes tight. She didn't know why Izzy had to force this issue. Couldn't she understand?

"Don't you get it?" Clary spit out.

"What? I know he hurt you. At the very least you should get to bawl him out. At the very least he shouldn't get to walk out and pretend like you two never happened, that you two didn't matter." Izzy was angry now.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Clary blared at her. "Because if I have to see him, hear him say the words on that letter … I'll never survive that! Do you hear me? Do you understand anything?!"

They were both standing, fists curled, limbs locked and stiff in combative stances and then … Izzy let out a long loud breath and tears trickled down her face.

"What are you doing?" Clary asked, her voice softened and bewildered.

"I just … I don't believe it. Any of it," Izzy's voice trembled. "I was there. I saw what you meant to him. I can't believe that could just … end. Not like this."

Clary turned away from her. She loved Izzy but she was wrong. She could not allow herself to believe what Izzy was saying. If she believed and she hoped, there would be nothing left when he decimated her again.

"Izzy, you have to go. I know you mean well but until you can … stop talking about him ... I can't talk to you. I have to move on, like he told me to. It's the only way for me to keep going," Clary said in a stony voice.

She heard a few more sniffles and then the door clicked shut. Izzy had left.

She hated this. She didn't want to be at odds with Izzy. She was her best friend and a wonderful person but … was she right? Seriously was she actually considering going down this road? You do know where this will take you? But … Izzy cared for her. Izzy was the one of the best people she knew. Izzy … was right. It wasn't just about herself. Not anymore and that alone would have to be enough. She couldn't be weak.

Fine. She would call him. One last message into the void. Chances are you'll never hear from him one way or another. You're just too afraid to hear even his recorded voice but … you're about to tell your brother and your aunt that you're going to be a teenage mother, you can do this. You can make a phone call to tell him the truth. He may never listen to it. Hey may delete it as soon as he hears your voice. That's probably what he's done to the hundreds of messages you've already left him but you've got to tell him this one last thing. Give him a chance to know his child even if he doesn't want you.

She sat back on her bad and let the shaking take over her body. That's right, get it out. Accept it. He doesn't want you. J-Jace doesn't want you and that's that.

Clary picked up her phone and connected to his number. It rang once, twice and then the click to voicemail. There was no sound, no recorded message this time. Well, he must have deleted it. Maybe he doesn't want anyone calling him maniacally just to listen to his voice over and over again. It was a relief actually … not to have to hear it.

Ok, here goes, "J-Jace, it's Clary. So, this is the last time I'm calling, I swear. I won't bother you again. I wasn't going to tell you but … well … I thought about it and Izzy's right, you should know. You need to decide what you want to do with that knowledge. Just know I'm not … I don't expect anything from you. I don't expect us to … get back together. I'm not going to ask you for anything so … don't worry. It's just you should know cause … I guess … you just should. I …" she felt the words get caught in her throat. She couldn't do it. She couldn't say it. She had to say it. Just do it! "I'm pregnant. So … that's it. I'm having it. Goodb—."

"Clary," a raspy voice stopped her. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins.

She dropped the phone. Holy shit! Stupid, stupid, stupid! It was … was it? He sounded so different. She looked at the phone, still lit up with his name on the floor. She slowly kneeled down and picked it up, bringing it back to her ear.

"Jace?" she whispered.


	29. Chapter 29 I Need You

**Water Under the Bridge by Adele**

 **The Reason by Hoobastank**

 **A Thousand Years by Christina Perri**

* * *

There was a long moment of silence. It seemed to stretch forever. She couldn't speak but she knew … he … someone … was still on the phone. She could hear him breathing.

"I need to see you," he finally choked out.

"Is that you, Jace?" she managed.

"I … yes … it's Jace," he said in a strange uncertain voice.

"Why?" she asked.

"Please, let me … meet you," he answered.

"Why?" she couldn't do this.

"I … need to explain," his voice was almost gone.

"Why?" What did he want? She couldn't see him. No, she couldn't do that. Not now. Maybe later. Not now.

"I have to … I have to see you," he begged and there was a hitch to his voice. It almost sounded like he … cared. No, no, he wasn't going to do this to her.

"No," she said. Her voice was cold steel. He was not going to rip apart the remaining shreds of her heart. "You can say whatever you need to now. I'm not meeting you."

She could hear his heavy breathing over the phone. Here they were. Finally, she could hear him, talk to him … but he wasn't saying anything, not a word. What was he doing? "What do you want?"

"Is it mine?" he asked, his voice a bare whisper.

And now the ice turned to lava. Only it didn't ooze through her the way you would expect lava to move. Instead it raced through her blood stream. It felt as if the roiling blood might explode out of her ears. "How dare you?" she seethed. "No, it's not yours. Is that what you want to hear? Well, I can tell you this much. No part of me belongs to you. Do you understand me? I never want to hear your voice or see your face. The sooner I forget you the better. So long," she threw the phone against the wall and watched it crash down to the floor along with chips of paint and plaster from the wall.

She was shaking so hard it felt like the world was crumbling all around her.

How could he ask her that? Who was he? Somehow the boy she loved with all her heart, the one who she had given everything she had to give, the one who had been a vital and inseparable part of her … he was gone. He would never have asked her that. He would never have written her that letter. He would have come back to her long ago. He might have been upset with her, stormed off for a few minutes, an hour at most, but he would have come back … that boy was gone. Why had it taken so long to get that through her thick head? She lifted the necklace she kept steadfastly around her neck and unclasped it. She didn't look at the pink heart or the emerald ring that had been looped on the chain and snuggled next to the pendant. She balled it up in her hand, opened the desk drawer and dropped it in.

There was a knock on her door and then it opened. The eager smile on Sebastian's face disappeared as he took her in.

She was still gulping down big breaths of air, both hands pressed down on top of the desk, the drawer shut closed concealing the necklace, the ring that had been a symbol of her everlasting love. She could see Sebastian's eyes run up and down her body, lingering on her face, then traveling around the room. He observed the crack in the wall and then stopped at the broken phone on the floor. He slowly, almost robotically turned his face to face her again. This time the puzzled creases lining his face were gone. His face was ashen now. His eyes were wide open and concentrated on her.

"What happened, Clary?" his voice sounded hallow.

"I spoke with Jace," it was strangely easy to say his name now. The adrenaline still surged through her veins.

"You spoke with Jace," Sebastian repeated slowly.

"That's right and it's the last time I'll have anything to do with him," Clary spoke scornfully and watched the color seep back onto his face.

She had never seen him so pale before, he was ghostly white.

"What did he say?" Sebastian questioned cautiously. He had his head bowed so she couldn't see his eyes.

"He said," Clary tried to stay calm, "he wanted to see me."

Sebastian stilled. He was so motionless, Clary wondered if he was even breathing. "What did you say?" the statue spoke.

"I said no," she told and watched him inhale deeply. " I told him I was pregnant."

Sebastian started coughing violently.

"Sebastian! Are you okay?" she asked and started toward him.

He was bent over so she still couldn't see his face.

"What-what did he say?" Sebastian demanded.

He spoke so urgently she answered swiftly even though the words made her want to vomit. "He asked if it was his."

The rage that burned through her when Jace questioned her on the phone had subdued. She still couldn't believe he'd ask her that but seeing how strongly Sebastian react to this news had an almost calming effect on her … as if the outrage that shot through her had transferred onto Sebastian.

Sebastian finally lifted his head. "He asked if it was his," he repeated her words.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

He was no longer hunched over. Some color had returned but there was a light sheen of perspiration on his face. He looked a little feverish.

"I love you," he answered and straightened. He opened his arms out for her and she moved into them, resting her face on his hard chest.

His body was strangely cold.

"What did you say then?" he asked very quietly but of course she could hear him as his lips moved lightly against her ear. He then lowered his head into her shoulder and wrapped his arms tight around her. It felt as if he were bracing for something.

Her own arms went around his torso and held onto him. She could feel the vibrating tension in his body ease away.

"I don't know. I was just so angry. Why would he ask me that? How could he ask me that?" Clary stopped and took a harsh breath trying to dispel the anger that rose up with reflection. "I told him I never want to see or hear from him again."

He was trembling in her arms and his arms somehow seemed to grow longer, snaking around her and gripping her so tight she thought he might be trying to force their bodies into one.

"God, I want you so much," he whispered and Clary couldn't help but wonder at his response.

"Promise me," he breathed into her ear.

"What is it?" she was more confused than ever. The fury had evaporated. "What's the matter, Sebastian?"

"Promise me, you'll stay with me tonight," he asked in such a muted but desperate voice she worried about him.

I said I would," she held onto him. It seemed to comfort him. He was gulping down deep lungfuls of air, but he held her tighter than ever.

"After tonight, you'll see," he lay long lingering kisses behind her ear and down her neck. "I'll make you mine forever."

Clary's heart started racing, her breath picked up its pace. "Sebastian-,"

"No," Sebastian didn't stop his kisses, shifting the neckline of her shirt to the side to get to the bare skin between her neck and left shoulder. "No more talking," he whispered between kisses.

Something was very wrong. Why was he acting like this? But she felt as if everything slowed to a crawl, including her mind … especially her mind. And what about Jace? She had spoken to him. After all this time she had actually heard his voice … and he was a stranger. But it was impossible to think clearly with Sebastian's body mashed against hers, his lips, his tongue caressing and sucking on all the most sensitive parts around her ears, along her neck and collarbone. She had a vague and fuzzy notion that they shouldn't be doing this now … but she couldn't remember why. And then her head fell back onto a cushiony softness. Wait a minute. She was lying back on her bed. Sebastian was on top of her and had her shirt lifted up above her heaving breasts that he covered with adoring kisses.

"Seb-," she tried to remember … what was it?

Sebastian slithered up her body and placed his mouth over hers, silencing her words. His lips were so soft and his tongue probed lovingly, gently opening her mouth until her own tongue was prodded out and entered his mouth, smothering all thoughts from her head.

The door to her room swung open, a booming voice filled the air. "Baby girl! You've outdone yourself this year. I saw the spread downstairs and what the -!"

Sebastian moved fast but not fast enough. He only had time to pull his face off her before Jonathan stormed in. Clary saw the look on Jonathan's face and knew urgent damage control was required. She immediately squeezed out from under Sebastian and jumped in front of Jonathan who already had his hands clawed out to presumably grab and dismember.

She managed to slow his assault but he was still storming toward Sebastian when she grabbed his arms. "Stop it, Jonathan! Stop!"

Mercifully, he stopped. And then his green eyes, still sparking to attack, travelled down to meet her pleading gaze.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Jonathan yelled at her her, "and with him?!"

Sebastian seemed to have gotten over the initial shock from the sudden interruption and now rose up and walked toward them.

"Stop!" she screamed knowing full well Jonathan did not yet have the capacity to think straight and keep his hands to himself. Even now, she was still applying all her strength to keep him from surging forward but she realized with relief that he was calming. There was no way, even with her regular workouts, she could hold him at bay if he was still charging at Sebastian.

"What is going on here?" Aunt Hodge now joined them and then surprise, surprise, there was Regina behind her, peering tentatively around her.

Oh great, it was a party. She flashed her eyes up at Jonathan. "You brought a guest?"

Jonathan stopped moving toward Sebastian who was now within arm's reach but blocked by Clary who was practically hugging her brother back. "Why not? Looks like you're doing plenty of entertaining with your own unexpected guest."

It was extremely irritating hearing the unmistakable disapproval dripping from Jonathan's voice. She sighed. Some things would never change.

Jonathan now stepped back and out of her hold, seeming to arrive at an unspoken realization. "I don't have to touch a hair on your head, do I, Sebastian?" he shifted his outrage at him. "Jace is going to kill you."

The mention of his name and her brother's blind assumption that Jace still cared what she did and who she did it with had a flooding heat convulsing through her body.

"Now, Jonathan," Aunt Hodge spoke up, "there are things you don't know."

Clary wasn't sure what came over her but suddenly she couldn't hold back and she didn't care there was an unanticipated witness at the Fairchild gathering. "You couldn't speak truer words, Aunt Hodge, cause guess what, people? I'm pregnant. That's right, I'm going to be a mother!"

Time seemed to stand still as the shock on their faces kept everyone motionless for longer than she thought possible.

"I'm going to kill you," Jonathan finally fumed, his eyes blazing, his fists tight as he glared at Sebastian.

"It's not Sebastian's!" Clary loudly declared.

"Good Lord!" Aunt Hodge cried. "Are you out of your mind, girl? How in all that's holy and decent are you going to raise a child? You're not even eighteen!"

Jonathan looked completely confounded now. "What the fuck, Clary? What the fuck?!"

Clary had never felt more vulnerable. Her family was about to disown her. They despised her. She despised herself. What possessed her to announce it this way? With Regina present, no less. At least, Regina watched her sympathetically. Her eyes were wide with shock but they were not judging. They seemed sad and Clary could feel her own eyes welling up with tears. Ok, she was a complete basket case and then there was Sebastian standing at her side, taking her hand. It had never felt more welcome, more needed than at this moment. She turned to him gratefully but then he fell to one knee in front of her and pulled out a ring.

"Clary," Sebastian looked up at her devotedly. "I've offered before but this time I'm asking you, not because of … your situation … but because I love you. I couldn't love another person more than I love you and I want everyone to know. I want everyone to know you don't need anyone else because you have me. Marry me and make me the happiest man in the world."

"Am I dreaming?" Jonathan blurted out. "What the fuck happened to Jace?"

Sebastian still had her hand gripped in his and now pulled it closer to him. "Please say yes. I'll take care of you. You know I'll take care of you and I swear I will love you … both of you, forever."

She didn't know how to answer him. She was utterly floored. "I-,"

"Don't be a fool," Aunt Hodge interjected.

"Your parents -," she began.

"Love you," Sebastian answered. "They want me to be happy. They know I can't be happy without you. They won't object."

"But you're only eighteen. You're still in college," she reasoned. Was she really considering this? Could this work? Did she want this?"

"Clary, you know I don't need to work. I have a trust fund that will take care of me and you and our family. Please … I love you," Sebastian was throwing all his cards in and Clary understood him.

If she said no now, she would lose him. He was humbling himself, begging her, in front of her family, in front of Regina. He wasn't waiting for her anymore. It was now or never.

"I-I'm afraid … I … don't …"Clary sputtered. How to salvage this? She needed to explain … how much he meant to her but … that it could never be what she had with Jace. "I love you, Sebastian," she watched a dazzling happiness surge into his eyes and it warmed her own heart. "But there are still things we need to talk about," she added "and then afterwards … if you still want me—."

"I'll always want you," he quickly responded.

She shook her head. "If you still want me after we talk … then … yes … I'll marry you."

He leaped up and grabbed her with no awareness evident of the audience around them and kissed her deeply. She felt a stabbing worry at the pit of her stomach. Her heart felt as if were freezing over. Why couldn't she let go? Why did she still … love him? As long as he existed and probably even after … he would always be it for her. Even after he had so resoundingly rejected and insulted her. She would always love him but … she loved Sebastian too, not the same way but she did love him, and if … if Sebastian could accept that … God, this was wrong. On so many levels, it was wrong but … it was over … with Jace. She had to move on. And Sebastian wanted her. He truly wanted her. Everything he said and did cherished her and she was tired of fighting it. She was tired of feeling like that part of her life was over. He kept her cradled against him while he looked down at her, his face glowing.

"Please, Sebastian, we have to talk about this," she tried to explain. She had to temper his … hopes and it was awful to realize this.

"It doesn't matter," he reassured her. "I know you're worried but you don't need to be. You don't need to worry about anything ever again."

She felt him slip the ring on her finger but did not look down at it. She was frightened this was too real.

"I've got to say," Jonathan shook his white blonde head, "this shit is unbelievable."

"Language, young man," Aunt Hodge finally seemed to find her voice.

"I can't believe ... Sebastian could be so romantic," Regina blurted out.

Everyone turned to her with a range of incredulity on their faces.

Sebastian still kept Clary close in his arms but now turned his head to Jonathan and her aunt. "I hope you'll give us your blessing."

"You're a good man," Aunt Hodge quickly volunteered. "You've been so good to our little Clary. Of course you have my blessing."

Jonathan looked woozily at his aunt, absorbing her comments and his green eyes remained wildly confused but he turned to Sebastian and gave him a perfunctory nod. "I'll still kill you if you hurt my sister." His tense posture slackened and the raging bull expression on his face had evaporated. "Let me just get this straight." He took a deep audible breath and then exhaled. "My sister, my baby sister … is going to have a baby. It's not yours," his eyes bore into Sebastian, "but you want to marry her, help raise her child and … she's … accepted." Jonathan brought his hands up to the top of head. "Did I get this right?" He looked back and forth between Clary and Sebastian, hoping either of them would deny some or all of what he had described.

"You've forgotten the most important part," Sebastian responded and then his eyes drifted back down to Clary. "I love her. I love your sister and we'll be the happiest family there could be. This is fate. We were meant to be."

The room was completely silent until the doorbell started chiming accompanied by loud pounding at the door. Everyone jumped.

"Now what?" Jonathan exclaimed and headed downstairs. "I'm coming!" he yelled as he stomped towards the door. "Don't break it down!"

Regina trailed behind him and tucked her arm in Aunt Hodge's, guiding her away. "I'm so glad you've invited me over this Thanksgiving. It's been … terribly exciting. So much better than the boring old dinners at my home."

Clary and Sebastian stood in her room. His arms were strong and warm around her. Their eyes were still gazing into each other.

"I can't believe we just did that," Clary said quietly.

"I'm not sorry," he answered, searching her face. "I meant every word I said. And now … now that they all know, you can move in with me."

She panicked. This was happening too quickly. "I don't think-"

"We'll get our own place, of course, but you'll be more comfortable at the apartment for now. Everything will be taken care of. You won't have to lift a finger," he pronounced.

The house seemed to tremble. Something heavy and hard was knocked against a wall and Clary heard a voice, a voice she hadn't heard in months, shout out along with more disturbing scuffling sounds.

"What is that?" Clary pushed him away and ran towards the commotion downstairs.

She could feel Sebastian's fingers harden, trying to hang onto her but she was too quick and slipped out of his hands. She stumbled down the stairs, her heart in her throat. Why was she here? What was going on? It sounded bad. It sounded like … Clary landed at the base of the stairway and gawked at the sight in front of her.

Aunt Hodge and Regina stood at the entrance to the dining room, their mouths open and eyes wide with identical expressions of horror but while Aunt Hodge had her arms outstretched, Regina had her arms braced against her body, hands at the side of her face.

And sure enough, there was the owner of the voice she heard. Alex had ceased yelling but her body covered her brother's back, one arm hooked around his neck attempting to subdue him. Her brother was flushed red. He was struggling against Alex's weight and despite being a girl she was almost his height and clearly knew how to tangle with the big boys. Plus, he was not really paying her much attention. His focus was clearly centered on the person he had knocked against the wall next to the doorway. One hand fisted into his collar, the length of his forearm pressed above his chest. The other arm raised and curled back for another blow. His face was already swollen and bruised. Blood seeped from his nose. He was also doing nothing to defend himself from this attack and leaned against the wall. His arms were slack at his sides.

At the sound of her arrival, all eyes turned to her but the only ones she could see were the golden pair attached to the head beneath her brother's assault.

"You'll kill him! You don't know what he's been through! You don't know anything!" Alex pulled hard and finally managed to pry Jonathan off. Jace slumped down to the floor.

Clary stood where she was and then felt her own legs give way. She sat back on the stairs and they just stared at each other.

He looked the same, but so different too. She couldn't understand it. She couldn't even say how he looked different, other than the swelling discolored flesh he'd just earned from her brother. And at first she felt nothing. But then everything and everyone else seemed to disappear and fade away. All she could see was Jace. Both of them on the floor and then … and then it struck her so hard it blinded her for a second. The sweeping electricity that she hadn't felt in so long she thought it had died … it came back in a rush. It had every part of her body, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, tingling with an overpowering energy.

"Why are you here?" she asked him.

There was background noise around her. People talking, exclaiming, upset, but she couldn't see or hear any of them. She could only see Jace.

"I needed to meet you," he answered her. "You're carrying our child."

"Yes," she wasn't angry at him anymore. She couldn't be when he was in front of her and he looked so … helpless and so … scared. "I am."

"I'm sorry," he said so sorrowfully she wanted to break down in tears. She could feel how sorry he was and how overwhelmingly confused and lost.

"What happened to you?" There was something … something about all of this that just didn't make sense.

"I shouldn't have wrote that letter. I should have come to see you. I … I'm a coward," he sobbed.

"No," she couldn't listen to this. "That's not true. You've never been a coward. You're the bravest, strongest person there could be. It's okay if you don't love me. You don't have to. I understand." Did she understand? It didn't make a difference. Because no matter what, she would always love him and she couldn't watch him lie here like this, defeated the way he was now.

"That's … that's," Jace choked on the words, "not it."

"Wha-?" she began.

"Please, let me explain. I have to tell you everything," he lay his hands down at his sides and propped himself up from his hunched position.

There was a light in his eyes now that wasn't there just a moment ago. He seemed to be … rejuvenating as their eyes delved into each other and it felt as if the connection between them was reknitting at a rapid speed. They got back up on their feet at the same time and she could feel the crazy need for him bubbling back up, forcing her to move closer. She didn't know what would happen once she bridged the few feet between them but she had to touch him.

But then there were hands on her shoulders. Hands that wouldn't let go and forced her to turn around.

"Tell him to get out," Sebastian was gripping her so tight she was shocked by the pain of his hold. He looked down at her and removed his hands from her shoulders, turned her around again to face Jace with her left hand pulled out and his other arm securely held above her chest, keeping the back of her body firmly pressed against him. "What are you doing here, Jace? We're engaged now, see. She doesn't need you. We talked about this."

The feel of Sebastian's arms, his hands, his hard body against her had her tongue tied. She looked down at the hand he held out for Jace to see and my God, there is a ring on it. That's right, he gave her a ring. He asked her to marry him and she said yes? She noticed it was a big white diamond and felt surprised that the large center stone wasn't a gorgeous emerald.

The light that had been shining in Jace's eyes extinguished. The gold dulled as he stared at the ring on her finger. "You're going to marry him? You're having my baby but you're marrying him?"

And then he moved like lightning toward her, pulled her out of Sebastian's arms and kissed her. She had never taken drugs but she was certain there could be nothing as mind alteringly dizzying than the feel of his lips on hers, his hands wrapped around her waist. But this had to be so much better than any drug or drink because all her senses were so alive and singing. Her arms unconsciously ran up his chest and wound around his neck. It was intensely crazy how she could get back here so quickly and so easily. Less than a minute from the first time laying eyes on him after three months apart and it was like he had just left. Well, not exactly like that, since the moment right after he just left she was stunned and bereft but she had known he would come back. There was no way they could stay away from each other. They were only complete when they were together. That was the truth she had known then and for the last two months she had been working so hard to convince herself that this truth had been a lie. Now all those efforts went right out the window in this moment, back in his arms again. At this moment, they were whole again, complete and well and absolutely perfect.

She struggled to understand what was happening when he was torn away from her. She blinked rapidly surveying the scene in front of her. She had been pulled and flung off him from behind and now found herself thrown on top of the couch on the other side of the living room. Sebastian was in front of her, both his hands out. She could only see the back of him but he was lunging at Jace who had been likewise pulled away by Jonathan. Jace looked as stunned as she felt but his eyes were wide and staring at her as if he couldn't believe she was real. Jace was struggling to get out of Jonathan's hold and Alex jumped in, wrestling Sebastian away.

Clary pounced into the fray. "Get off him! Stop it! Have you all lost your minds?!"

Jonathan whirled at her. She had never seen him look so disheveled or uncontrolled. "Are you insane? Jace has already admitted he knocked you up and obviously didn't man up and stick around. I would never have believed it but Sebastian here is the good guy. He wants to take care of you. You've just gotten engaged to him and now we're all supposed to stand back and watch this sleaze bag come back for another shot at you before he ditches you again!"

"That's not what this is," Jace spoke but never took his eyes off her. He watched her so fervently she didn't think he blinked. She was pretty certain she watched him just as intently. She could only see Jace and her whole body screamed to get back to him, bury herself in him and never let go.

"Why don't you explain, then?" Jonathan demanded sneeringly.

"No!" Sebastian roared. "Get him out. He doesn't belong here. You've done enough damage. You're not doing anymore!"

"For fuck's sake, he's been in a hospital for two months! He lost his memory from the last year. He doesn't remember his time with you, Clary, but he finally saw a picture of you two together and he knew he had to come back – to you. Even if he doesn't remember, he had to come back for you!" Alex burst out.

Jace suddenly fell forward when Jonathan released his hold over him and slid back in front of her, on his knees, staring up at her. He nudged forward and placed his hands gently around her hips, his golden eyes never lost its hold over hers. "I'm sorry. I don't remember but I don't need to remember to know … I need you."


	30. Chapter 30 On His Way

Jace sat back in the lounge chair. He was supposed to meet Alex here. She insisted on picking him up at the airport. Jace suspected she would be chauffeuring him around for as long as she could force the issue and he supposed he had no choice in the matter. She laughingly decreed that he'd not be getting behind the wheel of any vehicle as long as she had anything to say about it but he could tell by the tight sound of her voice she wasn't joking. He didn't argue. It was nice to feel this way … not questioning her concern for him, knowing that she truly did care.

He couldn't help thinking of his grandmother. Should he have spoken to her, explained his plans? He knew she would not like it and … he didn't trust her. No, it went beyond that. He knew if he told her she would have done anything she could to derail his intentions, which was why he had to leave the way he did. He puzzled over where this mistrust came from. She seemed so caring ever since he woke up at the hospital, in a way he had only ever hoped for but had long given up hope to ever experience. But now that she finally seemed to open her heart to him … or at least demonstrate displays of affection toward him … he grew more suspicious and wary of her. He had mentioned returning to Idris on more than one occasion and she had been vehemently against it. At first her opposition was mild, a gentle steering away from the notion. Why go there? Why revisit this unremarkable past? Nothing worthwhile happened there. Nothing but a terrible accident that they would both be better off forgetting. Why dwell on it? He had so much more to look forward to and they would embark on this new stage of his life together, as a family. Still he expressed a growing curiosity to piece together his missing year. Maybe it would help to return to the scenes that he had forgotten? But no, she only became more firm that Idris only housed unhappy memories and finally coldly dismissed the idea as sentimental nonsense, forbidding him from ever entertaining the idea again.

He hadn't pushed it after that. It was even sort of reassuring to have his 'true' grandmother back, someone whose attention he had come to dread, the only grandmother he'd ever known before the accident. The one who never asked him what he wanted or whether he was comfortable. The one who voiced her expectations and demanded his compliance. And yet there was a look she gave him, after she had so decidedly informed him not to think of Idris again. She seemed to expect something … some antagonism, some trouble … and it unsettled him. Why would she look at him like that? He couldn't remember ever giving her reason to give him such a look. Well, there was that one thing … one of the last things he could remember before he drew a blank, when he insisted he would attend Alicante High School. She had not liked that at all but they certainly had not fought over it, that would be beneath her and he remained respectful but steadfast with his decision.

Well, it didn't matter now. He was back and he knew she'd exact punishment. No doubt she'd be furious about Lady Sofia … but she hadn't been truthful about the Marchioness and what that noble young lady expected from him. None of it mattered now. He couldn't say how or why but he knew as soon as he laid eyes on that picture, all bets were off. He had to get back to Idris and he had to … what? He had no idea what he was doing. But whatever it was, he couldn't stop. He had to follow where he was led … by what? By whom? He didn't know. He didn't understand. It didn't matter that he was lost, so lost he didn't know how he would ever get back home … no, he didn't know where was his home, but he had an overwhelming feeling this journey … back to Idris, to see her, would give him the answer to find it.

He sighed impatiently and pulled out his new phone. He got it just before getting on the first flight he could catch back to Idris. He had left the penthouse immediately after speaking to Alex. He told her he didn't have a phone yet but he was getting one as soon as he could and would send her his flight information once he booked it. At that moment he knew he had to get out of his grandmother's reach, otherwise, he could forget ever setting a foot back on Idris. He had actually prepared for his 'great escape' years ago, long before the accident. He had never expected to actually employ these measures but he had learned after all the years under her yoke, you had to plan for ever eventuality and you had to expect the worst. And so, sometime soon after he turned fifteen, he opened and maintained separate accounts, created a fictional identity. It had been expensive but he was assured that the forgery was undetectable and untraceable. He had not lost the memory of the necessary security codes to access the required documents. But, it would take another day to have the passport, credit cards, driver's license expressed to him and he used cash to hide away at a hole in the wall motel nestled in Hell's Kitchen, a place where his grandmother would never search for him.

There had been some difficulty acquiring his old phone number. He had been forced to provide his actual ID to transfer the account but so far there had been no repercussions from sticking his head out and setting up the new phone with his real ID but he wouldn't put it past her to have him reported missing or more likely to have someone under her own employment looking for him, hired to haul him back. Maybe he watched too much television those months stuck in the hospital. His grandmother was hardly some evil mustache twirling villain but he wasn't arguing with his intuition anymore.

Whatever it was in him that commanded him to return to Idris, to seek her out, also told him he had to stay hidden from his grandmother until he found her, until he solved this mystery. Who was she? What was this … need to see her, to have her face to face in front of him? His breathing grew quick and shallow. It couldn't be. He couldn't … care … for her. How? He didn't even know what that was supposed to feel like. How could he even … with someone he couldn't remember but … this pressure in his chest. It squeezed at his heart … at the thought of her, at the memory of those dreams. It wouldn't be denied. She meant something to him. He needed to get close to her and see. Was this all some demented drummed up figment from his imagination? Whatever it was, it couldn't be … love. Love didn't work in his family. Love ended with tragedy and death. He was incapable of loving a girl that way. Still, she had awoken something inside him. Since that moment he first heard her name … it was impossible to define. It was like a constant humming … a buzzing in the background … and the world seemed … brighter. There was a promise and a hope he had never known before and he hadn't known where it came from. Why he was feeling this bizarre and inexplicable desire ...to really live … until Sofia showed him that picture. Suddenly he saw her and he knew … whatever they had … whatever they were … whatever they might be now … he had to face it. He needed answers.

He had not had time to check any of the restored messages on the phone. The salesman had suggested he have all of that wiped. There were so many messages on it. It would take some time to restore especially since the account had been inactive and unpaid for months but Jace didn't care. He wanted it all back. However long it took, he wanted whatever he could get, whatever might help him figure out who he was, who she was, what they were together. In the end, the texts were gone but they were able to retrieve the voice messages. Some were over a year old.

Alex sent him a message explaining she was stuck in traffic and would take longer to get there than she had planned. He supposed bad traffic was natural on Thanksgiving but he couldn't help feeling anxious about getting into town. He had decided to stay at his grandfather's house. He should have just told Alex he'd meet her there but she was already on her way and stuck on the expressway trying to reach him. Anyway, she had been adamant that he stay out of the driver's seat and it looked like cabs were few and far between.

But from the count of unheard messages on his phone, it looked like the voicemail restoration was done. He sat back, plugged in his headphones and prompted the replay. There were over a thousand messages. The technician had explained that all his saved messages would also return as unplayed messages and mentioned he had more than three hundred messages that had been saved. That was surprising. He couldn't remember ever bothering to save one message let alone three hundred of them. In fact, he usually did not bother to listen to a full message once he identified the caller. He only ever paid attention to the voicemails from Alex or his grandmother and for the last two months, or rather the last two months he could remember before the accident, Jonathan.

The sound of her voice immediately had him tense. He sat up straight and had his hands pressed against the headphones, keeping them securely in his ears. Her voice was low and shy but playful and so … happy he couldn't help the grin that formed on his face.

"That was so much fun today, at the trapeze ring. I wish we could have spent more time … alone … but I just needed to tell you … and not just with a text … how great … you are. I'll see you tomorrow morning. I … miss you. Muaah," she ended lightly, but the longing in her voice was so pure and clear it had his nerves vibrating, ready to leap out of his skin.

Why did her voice affect him this way? It was a mesmerizing sound, so sweet and so warm and inviting. He understood immediately why he would save the message. The sound of it had him melting. It was impossible to hide away from it, to pretend like it didn't affect him.

The next saved message was her again, sometime last year in October.

"You do know I'm going through a bottle of cover-up every day. Thought I'd let you know now since it's impossible to think straight in person," she giggled then. "So … not much else to say. I've already told you everything. Just the first of the daily messages you've requested and we both know I'm a slave to your whims and fancies. Can't wait to see you in … thirty seven minutes. I'm counting the seconds."

A shiver went through him. It brought a delicious curling warmth starting from the back of his neck that slid down his body and ended at the heels of his feet.

By the time he reached the twentieth message it was obvious all of the saved messages archived her voice. She never sounded sharp. She was all caressing softness and rounded edges and often her voice was a hushed whisper as if there were unfriendly ears nearby. Her pitch, her tone made him want to lie back and let the sound surround and encase his body.

He was well into the seventy eighth message and realized he would keep all of them. He couldn't imagine deleting them. And what did he learn from these short missives recorded months ago during a time his mind could no longer recall? He learned he spent every waking moment he could manage with her. He learned that the sound of her voice was a siren's call, that it bathed him with a sense of wholeness he had never known before. He learned that Jonathan was not 'supportive' of their relationship and contrary to how his grandmother portrayed it, it seemed Jonathan would have been quite pleased to see Jace out of her life … Clary's life. It seemed they spent most of their time together at her home, doing homework and it seemed they were constantly watched by her brother or her aunt.

Jace was amazed. He was amazed that he obviously spent months with this girl and did not sleep with her. There was such an anxious suppressed longing in her voice that made it unmistakable. She talked of his kisses that left her lips sore, how the memory of his hands all over her body kept her warm, how she couldn't wait to have him back in her arms again and how she dreamed of spending more than ten minutes alone with him in his car. The need to find her, be in her presence, was almost overpowering. Only a little longer, he thought. He'd have to give it a day but certainly tomorrow … tomorrow he … had an inspired thought then and scrolled into the restored photos on the phone. There was a treasure trove there … so many pictures … of her. Sometimes she posed for these shots, goofing and making funny faces at the camera but most of them appeared to have been taken at a moment when she was unaware. Quite a few were taken in his car. There was one that struck him particularly hard. He couldn't stop staring at it. It just didn't seem real. There she was, in the passenger seat of his Mercedes. Her lips were the first thing his eyes were drawn to. They were swollen and a deep rose red but still so exquisitely shaped and slightly open as if to catch her breath. Her green eyes sparkled wide and were framed by long auburn lashes. Her creamy skin glowed and her cheeks were flushed pink. Her hair was a mass of fiery ringlets, a flame of colors that would seem to oppose the delicate features of her porcelain face but instead complimented them and transformed the fine and lovely lines into something dreamlike and otherworldly.

Jace was suddenly afraid. He could get lost in the presence of this creature and it was such a bizarre and alien concept to him. All the messages, these pictures, all of it pointed to the truth of this conviction and he didn't know what it meant. A frightening voice inside told him this creature could destroy him. If he exposed himself to her she would wield a power over him that was incomprehensible to him but … he already felt powerless to resist. He had no choice but to seek her out. He couldn't fight this need to find her and bask beneath her, let her crush him under her heel. He needed to know what it felt like to be near her because despite the indisputable danger she posed he had never felt more alive than when he became aware of her existence and once he saw her picture he had been ruled by the singular uncompromising drive to find her.

He returned to the messages and picked up where he left off although he could stare at that photo for hours. If he was going to do this he had to prepare himself as much as he was able and some scattered bits of the background they shared was better than nothing. Besides, he wanted to hear her voice again. The sound of it coupled with the fresh image of her in his mind created an almost painful but divine anticipation. He was jolted from the hypnotizing haze when he was grabbed up and brought up to his feet in a bear hug.

"Jace!" Alex practically yelled in his ear.

"Have mercy, Alex!" All the air gushed out of his lungs from her tight squeeze.

She pulled him back then and eyed him eagerly.

"What are you doing?" he asked vaguely uncomfortable. It wasn't their thing to hold each other and gaze into each other's eyes.

"It's just so damn good to see you," Alex finally let him go with a wide toothy grin.

She had grown out her dark hair past the nape of her neck and added purple highlights to the tips that skimmed her face.

"What happened to you?" Jace asked puzzled. This was so unlike the Alex he'd always known he worried about just how much he had missed.

Alex bit her lip and looked a little sheepish. "I met someone."

Jace's eyebrows shot up. This was revolutionary. "When did this happen? And what does that have to do with the … look?" He squinted a little realizing Alex was actually wearing some mascara and lip gloss.

"Oh shut up," she shoved him on the shoulder. "I am a girl. I'm allowed to doll up sometimes … well, I guess that's irrelevant. It's not like that stops Magnus from touching up."

"Magnus?" Jace was pretty sure that wasn't a girl's name.

"Yes, well, his real name's Marvin but he goes by Magnus and he likes … glam." Alex smiled happily.

"I don't know what to say, Alex. I guess this Magnus is … a friend?" Jace wondered if he had lost his ability to read people because it certainly seemed to him that Alex was smitten but … how was that possible?

Alex shook her head. "I never said I was exclusively into girls. I just never met a guy I could dig that way … until now. We met at a party two months ago. He runs a nightclub and … he's fabulous."

Jace watched Alex carefully. She did seem happy and that was the important thing. "I've got to meet this guy."

Alex beamed at Jace. "You will."

"I can't believe you didn't fall for me … now that we know you and a guy are a possibility," Jace joked although he was actually a little mystified. He'd never come across a girl who didn't want him.

Alex smirked at him. "Sorry, hon. Guess pretty boys don't do it for me."

Jace frowned. "But pretty girls do?"

Alex shrugged. "I thought they did but it's not like I dated any. I just have … an appreciation for them but Magnus is like my first … relationship?"

"And he's not pretty?" Jace questioned. He wasn't sure why it mattered but he was honestly baffled by this turn of events.

"Oh, he's gorgeous," Alex said dreamily.

"This is very troubling," Jace pondered. "I always thought I was gorgeous."

"Yeah, well not the type of gorgeous that turns me on," Alex replied. "What's the matter? Jealous?"

Jace's mouth fell open.

Alex laughed. "I'm just fucking with you. We both know you and I can only be friends. You're like a brother."

Jace smiled back at her. "He better be good to you."

"Oh, I'll make sure of that," Alex agreed.

"Wow," Jace pulled Alex in this time for a hug. "I'm glad you found someone. I know anyone you care about has to be special."

When Jace let her go he could see her eyes swimming with emotion.

"And now it's time to go get your special person," she told him.

"Let's go." Jace answered.

They were in Alex's Honda and Jace could swear she was the slowest person on the road. He put his headphones on to continue going through the messages. They had spent almost the first hour of the drive discussing what had happened since they last spoke. Alex didn't even bother trying to defend his grandmother as she usually had in the past. Seemed Alex was now nursing her own grudge at his grandmother's treatment, leaving her in the dark about Jace's condition. She nodded when Jace explained his subterfuge and a mistrust of her plans for him. Alex gave him a goggle eyed look when he told her about Lady Sofia.

"Seriously, Jace?" Alex asked, astounded. "You were really going to marry a complete stranger?"

"Well, I always figured I'd end up in some politically arranged marriage," Jace said a little defensively. "I mean maybe not this soon but I never thought I could really attach myself to a girl that way so I thought, why not? As long as we both knew it was in name only."

"But …," Alex frowned. "You'd be expected to have children, raise a family. How could you possibly do that right if you don't even know if you like each other?"

Jace lowered his eyes and shook his head frustrated. "Honestly, Alex. I don't think I'm cut out to have kids. I don't know how to care for another human being like that."

Alex made a rude noise. "That's bullshit. You're my best friend. I would know if you were 'incapable' of caring for people, a family. Trust me, Jace. It was glaringly obvious you're ready and able to devote yourself to someone you love," Alex stopped and looked at Jace pointedly. "So … you still can't remember? You still can't feel anything? What you had with Clary?"

Jace couldn't meet her eyes. He felt … too much but he didn't know what it was he felt. "I have to find out. That's why I'm here. I'll go see her tomorrow."

Alex scrunched up her nose.

"Is that a problem?" Jace asked, recognizing the dispute on her face.

"I … don't think you should wait," Alex said hesitantly. "You know it's … been a while since you wrote that letter."

Jace looked away. "Two months, one week and three days." He shuddered. "But it's Thanksgiving. Maybe not the best time to go barging into her house. I mean wouldn't she already have plans with her family today? I heard that's what most people do." He quickly turned his head back to Alex. "Hey, what about you? I'm sure your folks expect you for dinner at least?"

Alex smiled but didn't take her eyes off the road. "Of course. We're both attending our Thanksgiving dinner and don't try to get out of it. Also, you're staying at our house. I don't even want to hear about you going to your grandfather's old place, that you need space, that you're perfectly fine by yourself, blah, blah, blah. You know someone is probably keeping tabs on the place for your grandmother. If you're serious about getting out from under her thumb that's not the place to be right now."

Jace chuckled. "I really hope we're wrong about her. I mean … the more I think of ways to 'evade' her the more I feel like I'm turning her into this crazy comic book villain. Are you sure your folks won't mind. I can stay at a hotel or something."

"Don't be stupid," Alex berated him. "You're family. Of course they don't mind."

After that exchange, Alex suggested he rest and consider going to see Clary as soon as they reached town. It would be another hour before they got to Alicante and she thought he looked tired. Jace didn't contest. He was tired and it was really relaxing being with someone he truly trusted. He had been on edge since he ran out of the masquerade and he hadn't had more than two hours of consecutive sleep. Not that he could sleep now. Not when he knew he was getting closer … to her … and finally he would know. He would at last be able to solve this one great mystery that had been haunting him since he heard her name. He closed his eyes while he listened to her voice.

His eyes flew open, startled, when the phone started buzzing from an incoming call. He raised the phone to view the caller, cringing. Damn, grandmother must have discovered he reactivated his old phone number. He almost fumbled it when he saw it was Clary.

"Oh shit," he bolted upright in his seat.

"What is it?" Alex asked alarmed.

"It's her. It's Clary. She's calling me," Jace held out the phone.

"Well answer it, dummy," Alex urged.

Jace pressed to connect the call but found he had completely lost the ability to speak. There was no sound for a few long seconds and he wondered if she'd hung up but he still couldn't even say hello.

"J-Jace…"

It was her … and she sounded even better live than on those messages. He wasn't sure if she really did sound better than the recordings he had just spent hours listening to or if it was simply the realization that she was really there … and he was so close to her.

"It's Clary. So, this is the last time I'm calling, I swear."

Oh God, no. He had to say something. He had to –

"I won't bother you again. I wasn't going to tell you …"

What was she saying? He was an idiot.

"… but … well … I thought about it and Izzy's right,"

Izzy? That was a girl's name, right?

"You should know. You need to decide what you want to do with that knowledge."

His anxiety was skyrocketing and he could peripherally see Alex mouthing at him. God knows what she's saying but he could clearly catch her mouth out 'idiot.'

"Just know I'm not … I don't expect anything from you. I don't expect us to …"

An exquisite thrill went through him when she said 'us.' He had his teeth clenched to bite down on this strange new sensation.

"get back together. I'm not going to ask you for anything so …"

His spirits plummeted. He could feel himself flattening against the seat.

"don't worry. It's just you should know cause … I guess … you just should. I …"

Oh God. What was it? Was she calling to tell him she'd given up on him? He didn't deserve any better but please … please don't say it. He could hear her breathing now. She was struggling to say the words. Now … now … say something … beg her … tell her you need to see her …

"I'm pregnant."

He was so stunned his mind went blank. Great big blinding dots scattered his vision. What … did … she … just … say?

"So … that's it. I'm having it. Goodb—,"

He had to say something now. He couldn't let her end the call. "Clary," he rasped out.

A loud clattering sound filled his ears.

"Jace?" she whispered.


	31. Chapter 31 Massacre

Clary looked down at Jace. His eyes were only a few inches below her own as he kneeled before her. Still the same beautiful golden eyes, still the same infinite depths behind them and of course, still the same unrelenting pull. It would never let her go. Her hands moved to rest on his shoulders and her touch seemed to trigger him. He moved in closer. His hands pulled her in and changed from the light hold on her hips to a stronger grip around her waist.

"Clary," Jace said so softly and so reverentially it sounded like so much more than just her name.

"Clary," this time her name was said louder with a harrowed, stricken voice. It came from behind her. Sebastian.

She knew she should turn. She should acknowledge him, that he meant something to her. She should make him go … but she couldn't tear her own eyes away from the boy in front of her. The only one who could ever possess her body and soul so completely it all belonged to him. She could have laughed at how foolish she had been. The idea that she could ever think he didn't own her, that she had anything left to give to anyone else, it was ludicrous. It was impossible.

"Clary." It was a stricken plea now. It was coming in closer.

She watched Jace's golden eyes harden from the molten pools that had been fixed on her. They shifted away from her and he sprung up, sleek and strong. He pulled her into his chest. She could bury her face into the crook of his arm if she chose. She could close her eyes and breathe in the wonderful scent of him. She could pretend nothing else existed with her body pressed against his, his left arm keeping her at his side in an iron hold.

"Stay away from her," Jace said in a voice she didn't recognize. "If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you."

No, she had to stop this. She couldn't forget everything Sebastian had done for her. She couldn't let them fight. She tried to move back but realized he held her so tight she couldn't pull away even if she wanted to but she lifted her head to look at his face. She had missed it so much. It was the most beautiful face imaginable, but right now it was all hard angles. His jaw was set. There was a deadly shadow looming over his brows, a terrifying look in his eyes amplified by the swelling purple bruises Jonathan had given him. She raised a hand and her fingers brushed against the tense lines of his face. It had an immediate effect. She could feel the anger seep out of his flesh at her caress and his eyebrows raised. His eyes lowered to meet hers and there was her Jace. She still had her hand lightly cupping his chin when she noticed the flash of light on her finger.

She lowered her hand down to examine it. She noticed Jace's eyes dimmed when she removed her touch but ... what was that? Oh, it was the ring, the ring Sebastian had placed on her finger. She pulled it off swiftly. She didn't have to think about it. It didn't belong on her hand. She could never become Sebastian's wife. It was all so obvious she couldn't even fathom how she had even considered it.

"I can't wear this. I can't keep it, Sebastian," she said solemnly. Her hand stretched out for him to take it.

She trembled when she realized he wouldn't extend his own hand and she slowly raised her eyes to see him. It was worse than she'd imagined. The heartbreak in his eyes was unavoidable and they seemed to stare at each other for an endless moment. She wanted to look away. She was desperate to have it end but it was least she could do, watch him suffer and know she caused it.

"Don't do this," the pain in his voice was palpable. "He doesn't remember you. He will never love you the way I do. You can't trust him."

A fearful flood washed over her and then, "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me he lost his memory? He was in a hospital?"

Sebastian watched her long and hard. He straightened into a rigid pose and his black eyes blazed. "There were things I thought you were better off not knowing. Do you really want to know everything? Do you want to know what he was doing when I first 'met' him at the hospital?"

She could feel Jace stiffen at her side.

"Recuperating? What else would he be doing in a hospital?" she replied. She couldn't help a slightly bemused tone in her voice.

She dropped her hand, the ring still in its palm. There was something malicious on Sebastian's face that made her feel uncertain and vulnerable. She could feel Jace's eyes on her. There was an anxious urgency rolling off him but she still watched Sebastian. It felt as if she needed to protect Jace from him. All she could see was spite and hatred on his face. He wanted to hurt Jace more than anything. Despite all his claims of his undying love for her she couldn't see a trace of it in his enraged eyes.

"He was fucking a resident there. A redhead, of course. Because it's a weakness of his. Didn't you know that? Seems he can't stay away from them," Sebastian spit out. "You know he laughed when I told him about you. You meant nothing to him. He doesn't know you."

She gasped loudly. It felt as if the air had been violently expelled from her lungs and she had been suddenly twisted around at a dizzying speed.

She didn't know how much time had passed before she finally realized she was expected to say something. "Oh, th-th-that makes sense," she stuttered.

She could feel everyone staring at her but she couldn't see it. She couldn't see anything. She thought Jace might have his arm around her but she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"I-I have to lie down. Excuse me," she tried to move away but she was firmly held in place. She didn't want to see who was holding her, especially since it was probably him. She didn't want to see anything.

"Let go," she said firmly to no one and everyone.

There was a buzz in her ears but she could only concentrate on one thing and as soon as she could feel the grip around her loosen she bolted away, up into her room and locked the door.

It's the hormones, she thought when she lay back on her bed, curled up on her side and closed her eyes. I'm exhausted. It's too much. It's all too much. I can't deal with any more … revelations. She tried her best to fall back to her previous modus operandi and emotionally go numb but her mind kept going.

This explains everything. You always wondered what he saw in you. Now you know. He's got a thing for redheads and there ain't anyone redder than you. She had always hated her red hair. She couldn't do a thing with the brash curls. The color clashed with everything. But it did land her the hottest guy on the planet so there was that. She sat up. Her heart hurt. Did it really matter that much? So what if he had a redhead fetish? She probably had a golden god fetish although she was pretty certain that was less a fetish and more an undeniable draw for anyone with a beating pulse.

He didn't know you were alive. Why are you acting like this? He came for you. Doesn't that count for anything? Oh yeah, Alex mentioned he saw a picture. No doubt the red hair reeled him in. Oh my God, I'm being ridiculous. Is he such a slave to redheads that he'll go chasing every one of them down? So what is it? Besides the fact that he doesn't know who I am? That our entire year together, falling in love, making this baby inside me … it's gone. That's what he meant when he wrote we don't exist. It's because we don't exist. Not to him. He doesn't know me. Why is he here? Because of the red hair? Because he's trying to figure out what happened during his blank year? It has to be … really awful … to wake up and have no idea what you did for an entire year. And while I was falling apart, going mad, missing him like crazy, I didn't exist for him. He didn't know I was alive. He was screwing some red head, 'seriously dating' some English broad. The knowledge of it, the understanding slammed into her with such force her chest hammered painfully. Her Jace was gone and an overflow of tears erupted from her eyes. God, she really thought she was past this. She had accepted she had lost him and already wrung out so many tears … but now it was like reliving it all over again. Only this time there was no uncertainty. The tiny bit of hope she had kept buried deep inside was ripped out and shaken violently. I am such a fool.

* * *

Jace kicked the ring lying by his feet on the floor at Sebastian. "I think this is yours," he said grimly. "She doesn't want it."

Sebastian reached down and picked it up, rubbed it off against his shirt and placed it into his pocket, never taking his black eyes off Jace.

"I'll just hold onto it for now. I'll have it back where it belongs," Sebastian answered coolly.

"That's why you came to see me … to take her from me. We were never friends, were we? You've only ever wanted her. We hate each other … but why were you there? How were you there, at the hospital to see me? Why were you there and nobody else, nobody who cares for me, who I'd want to see?" Jace frowned. His voice was low and there was a lethal edge to it that had everyone watching him wide eyed and nervous. Everyone, except Sebastian.

Sebastian sneered at him. "Still haven't figured it out? I thought you were supposed to be smart. I suppose your grandmother may have just paid for your grades. Surely, you suspect … but then, I always knew you weren't very quick when it came to … matters of the heart." Sebastian's hands curled into fists. "Your grandmother. She never wanted you with Clary any more than I did. She flew me in especially, to deliver the nail on that coffin."

Both Alex and Jace moved in closer, ready to act but stayed silent.

"My grandmother," Jace spoke quietly. It wasn't a question.

"I wasn't lying to you, Jace," Sebastian glared at him. "I may despise you but I never lied to you. I told you your grandmother would cut you off if you went back to her. I told you Clary loved you and I told you I loved her. This -," Sebastian sweeped his hands out, "is your fault. You should have stayed away. You've just broken her heart. You could have gone your way, according to your grandmother's 'designs,' married your Marquise, inherited your family's billions, but no, you had to come back and do what you do best. You had to come back and destroy her … again."

Jace moved to strike at Sebastian but Alex quickly cut him off. He glanced at Alex who merely shook her head and silently mouthed, 'Clary,' at him … and he understood. He couldn't eradicate the boiling desire to tear Sebastian into jagged pieces but he wasn't here for that. As much as he wanted to flatten the shithead's nose, knock his teeth out, that was way down his list of priorities. He was here for Clary and he already knew enough about her to know she wouldn't want the wretched prick hurt.

His eyes focused back on Sebastian but he leaned back. "I don't know what you think is going to happen, Sebastian, but I can tell you what's not happening and that's me leaving here without my … girl," Jace seethed but ended almost comically with a stunned expression on his face.

Sebastian barked out a laugh with no humor in it. "Really, Jace? And how do you think you're going to do that? Are you going to tell her you … love her?" he said snidely. "Yeah I know about your issues with the 'L' word," Sebastian's eyes gleamed. "You're pathetic. She's not your girl anymore. You've lost her and you don't even know it."

Jonathan stepped in, grabbed Sebastian's arm and forced him toward the door. "Okay, it's time for you to go now."

"What?" Sebastian looked incredulously at Jonathan. "You should be throwing him out!" He pointed at Jace venomously.

"I have a few thngs to say to him and the only person who's allowed to throw punches in this house is me. It's obvious where this conversation between you two is headed. I'll see you later … if Clary wants to see you." Jonathan shoved Sebastian out the door and shut it.

He whirled back at Jace. "So, it's true? This cockamamie story about your 'amnesia'? You don't remember my sister? What happened? What do you know? And what the hell is your grandmother's problem with my sister?!"

Jace struggled to contain the foreign emotions pooling into his gut. His face contorted as he tried to stamp them out. "Is it true? Did I lose her?"

Jonathan's eyes went wide. He was clearly taken aback.

Alex put an arm around Jace. He wanted to shrug her off. This … weakness wasn't him. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't do anything but fight with himself. Stop shaking, asshole.

"He's obviously in no condition to talk about this now but I can answer a few of your questions. Namely, yes, of course it's true. He was in a car accident. Don't know where exactly but someplace around here, in Idris. Doesn't remember it. Happened about three months ago. Woke up in a Manhattan hospital. Last thing he remembers is finishing football camp and planning to start Alicante High. Grandmother didn't tell anyone … except, apparently, Sebastian and well, you heard what he said about it," Alex explained quickly. "Jace, I think it's time for us to go. We can come back tomorrow."

"No," Jace straightened and lifted his face. "I can't leave. You go, Alex. I have to stay. I'll wait as long as I have to but I have to talk to her."

"Jace," Alex spoke softly. "She knows the important parts. She knows it's not your fault. I'll bring you back tomorrow. You need to rest. You look like hell had a baby and threw it out the window."

Jace scowled at her. "Why would you say shit like that? You know she's having a baby … my baby," his voice croaked out and he looked around wildly.

"Okay, Jace. I'm sorry. That was insensitive. I just meant that you look like a sickening massacre … and now you look like you just got off the crazy train. I can't leave you here," she answered lightly.

Jace backed up until he hit a wall and leaned against it. "I'm not leaving."

"Jace-," Alex started to say, exasperated, but was cut off.

"I'll take care of him. He can sleep here, on the couch, and if you're worried about whether he'll sleep, I'll knock him out for you," Jonathan said gruffly.

"I don't know-," Aunt Hodge began.

"Trust me," Jonathan interrupted. "I know him even if he doesn't remember a Goddamn thing. He's the same stubborn asshole he always was … and he's right." Jonathan folded his arms. "He's gotta work things out with Clary. She needs him." Jonathan fixed his glaring green eyes on Jace. "You know that, right? You've got to make this right."

"You know who's the asshole?" Alex declared witheringly.

"Stop, Alex," Jace shook his head and turned to her. His eyes pleaded with her.

She exhaled loudly. "Fine. If you want to put up with this self-righteous asshole, fine. But you have my number. Call me if you need me. I'm serious, Jace. Promise me you'll call me as soon as you're ready to leave."

"Hey, this asshole can throw you both out," Jonathan announced. There was a small smirk on his face.

"Please, no," Jace said, alarmed.

Alex grabbed Jace's arms and shook him gently. "Don't let him fuck with you. You can do this. Just tell her how you feel. Be honest with yourself, Jace. You can do this."

Some spirit flowed back into Jace's golden eyes. He nodded and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Alex."

Alex let him go. "Now, promise me you'll call me. You don't leave here without me. Promise or I'm not leaving either."

"Wonderful," muttered Jonathan.

"I promise," Jace agreed.

"Well," Aunt Hodge looked a little cross eyed as she watched Alex leave her home. "That's a girl, right? I mean, she sort of looks like a girl but she fights like a boy, she talks like a boy and she's taller than most boys … Eh!," she shrugged. "I'll go get some bedding for you, young man, since Jonathan seems to trust you to do right, but mind you, I'm not putting up with any more of your shenanigans. If you stay here, I expect you to stay by her side for good and keep Miss Clary happy." She didn't wait for Jace to respond and shuffled away.

Jonathan seemed deep in thought and followed his aunt out a moment later.

"Hi, Jace," a familiar high pitched female voice piped up once Aunt Hodge and Jonathan left.

Jace turned, surprised to see Regina Spalding, of all people, standing at the doorway of the dining room.

"Some night, huh? Happy Thanksgiving." She looked a little embarrassed to be there while he just stared at her amazed.

"I must be dreaming but for the life of me I have no idea why you'd make an appearance in my dream," Jace said aloud but did not seem to direct his comment at her.

"Well, that's flattering," she scowled playfully. "You know, Jace, I've never seen anyone as head over heels as you when you looked at her. You really love her," she said a little wonderingly. "But the problem is … I'm pretty sure Sebastian loves her, too. I mean he asked her to marry him, said he'd love her and her unborn child, your unborn child, forever. I think you may be fucked."

She walked over to him, stretched up to her toes, placed her hands on his chest and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "That's for luck." She looked at him sadly, turned and walked out of the room leaving him speechless.


	32. Chapter 32 Can't Stop

Her eyes flung open. Her body was damp, a light sheen of perspiration all over it. She felt hot and sticky. Her body was churning with a pulsing wanting heat that started inside her core, between her legs. The carnal ache was not an unfamiliar sensation but what had been steadily simmering for weeks now blazed hot, roiling through her with a vicious uncompromising need. It had to be Jace. But why now, right at this moment when there was no possible release from her body's overpowering demand?

She didn't have to look at the clock to know it was late or very early depending on how you looked at this time of day. It was pitch dark out. She was starving. At least she should be able to satisfy her hunger for food although she knew with bleak certainty that was the far lesser of the two harsh cravings running rampant through her body. She practically jumped out of bed and was a little surprised at the way her body moved, almost with a will of its own, heedless to her mind's direction. It wasn't waiting for her mind and she sensed she wouldn't really be able to control it anyway.

The house was quiet. Her own footsteps through the hallway sounded obnoxiously loud to her ears. Every step on the floorboards seemed to emit squealing creaks. She stopped at Jonathan's door and listened. Was he in there? She was surprised he hadn't coming storming into her room insisting on some explanations, but no, he left her alone. Did he leave? Perhaps he was so disgusted by her, he had to put some distance between them. She thought about opening the door to check on him but then she heard the coarse snuffling sounds of his snoring and relaxed back on her heels. Well, that was him, alright, and fast asleep judging by the deep and methodical sound of his breathing. She could count on at least a few more uninterrupted hours, some time to gather her bearings and prepare herself for the interrogation she was pretty sure she would be subject to once he woke up.

She continued through the hallway and made her way down the stairs. The yearnings expanded as she took each step. She would have paused to try to make some sense of the havoc inside her body but her legs kept moving. She had to exert herself to keep moving at a sensible pace. She knew she would be inexplicably racing down the stairs if she didn't make this conscious effort to control herself. A lightning flash went through every nerve of her body when she got halfway down the staircase. A long form was unmistakably stretched over the living room couch, its limbs dangling uncomfortably over it. Even in repose, there was a firm strength etched along its frame and a glimmer of moonlight reflected off its golden head.

Jace, she sighed internally and could not form a coherent thought as she made her way to him. She stepped very carefully and remarkably did not make a sound. She didn't want to wake him. Somehow she felt to wake him would wake them both from this dreamlike state and she only wanted to retain this moment forever, to see him, let his beauty and perfection wash over her. His mere presence made all her worries and anxieties disappear.

But it was no good. As soon as she came within five feet of him, his eyes opened as if he had been awake all along and had been waiting for her the whole time. She felt completely trapped by his golden gaze. There was no place to hide. She stopped and was about to take a step back when he gracefully slid up to a sitting position and stretched his arms out, his hands in open supplication.

"Please, don't go," he said very lightly.

The glow of his eyes had her captive.

"Those other girls you were with," she spoke with trepidation and watched his eyes widen. He was clearly not expecting this line of conversation. "Did you use protection?"

He frowned as if he couldn't understand what she was saying. "There was only one girl and I promise you, now that I've," he struggled," met you, there will never be anyone else." He watched her carefully as if she were a dangerous creature who might lunge at him and rip out his throat.

"That wasn't an answer," she replied woodenly. She was only vaguely aware of what was being said. She only needed to hear his answer to her question. She couldn't comprehend anything else.

He lowered his head as if he expected a terrible blow. "Yes. I always use a condom." He looked a little confused then. "I mean, as far as I can remember."

She nodded her head. "We didn't."

His pupils were only rimmed with gold. His eyes were round and wide. He didn't say a word but she could see the pulse on his throat quicken and watched his jaw grow taut.

She wasn't sure what to make of this reaction but she couldn't stop now. "I was on birth control pills. I'd never been with anyone else. You were safe," she hesitated. "I mean … from any disease." She knew this was an odd and uncomfortable conversation and yet she wasn't embarrassed.

They regarded each other silently for a long moment.

"So, did you want to say something?" she asked him. He did ask her not to go …

He looked flustered and lifted a hand, pulling it through his tousled golden hair and away from his forehead. She had seen him do this many times before, usually when he was having a hard time voicing something. He had a leaner build now then what she remembered but the firm, wiry muscles were still well defined and could be easily seen through the thin white cotton t-shirt he wore. He must have changed, she thought. Maybe Jonathan loaned him the shirt to sleep in or maybe he had it on underneath what he had been wearing before and just undressed? Her gaze travelled down to what covered his legs. Cotton pajama pants. So, Jonathan had provided a change of clothing. I wonder if he also gave him a toothbrush, she wondered idly. It was bizarre the places her mind was going but the truth was she found it shocking that her brother could be so … accommodating … to Jace, the boy who impregnated his teenage sister.

"I … I … just want you to know," Jace began but was clearly having a hard time either figuring out what to say or saying whatever it was he wanted to say.

"Forget it," she sighed. "We can talk later … you know, at a decent hour … when there's sunlight."

"But -," Jace did not look happy.

"What?" she countered abruptly. "You've got plans? You've got somewhere else you need to be?" She didn't mean to carp at him. She hoped he didn't take it that way but … why was he still here? "Why are you here?" she asked once the question formed in her head. "Really? I don't understand why you had to sleep here." She took a deep breath. "You really didn't have to do that. I would have talked to you later. I was … upset before but," she thought about it, "but I'm reasonable now. I understand … you didn't abandon me."

She looked him over then. He sat there with his mouth slightly open. He looked perplexed. He looked absolutely gorgeous. Even now, sitting there with his elbows against his knees, with no idea who she was, a little slack jawed if she was going to be honest, he still took her breath away. She turned her head away. She really did not want to get sucked into the hypnotic state that he could so easily drive her to. She was already at the edge and even though she would not allow herself to dwell on it, she wanted him and it was getting almost impossible to ignore it. It had been months! When she hadn't gone more than a week without him before he had been so mercilessly torn out of her life and she had these raging needs. She had been just about ready to throw herself on Sebastian and now … he was here. A stranger who didn't know her … but she knew him. She knew him very well, his body at least.

"I'm assuming you want to talk about us," she babbled on. She had to keep going before she just … jumped on him. "I mean, I don't know. That seems like the obvious answer but what's there to say? Hi, we were dating for a year. We were together right before your accident. Yeah, I'm pregnant with your baby. Sorry, for the … inconvenience?" she stumbled then because there was only so far she could go.

She was afraid to look at him and gauge his reaction to her moronic rambling. He was probably ready to run now. Probably regretted showing his face here. This may well be the last time they would be alone together.

She swiftly lifted her eyes and stared him down. If this was it, it would end on her terms and she was not about to let him leave until … until… She was puzzled but definitely relieved to see he did not look repulsed by her. No, he was still looking up at her wide eyed with perhaps an even more clueless expression. He was visibly gulping. Was he nervous? This seemed so unlikely. Jace had never been anything but a supremely confident, godlike being to her and now … he looked anxious, uncertain, poised to shield himself from some … disaster.

She felt faint with him so close, their eyes locked on each other. She closed her eyes trying to quell the storm that brewed up and down her body. She was dimly aware that her feet were moving, sliding forward toward him. What was she doing? And then, she fell on him. Her thighs parted to straddle over his legs. Her heaving breasts pressed against his hard chest and her arms wrapped around his neck. Her lips crashed down over his and her hands went up to grab his golden locks. It was the kind of kiss that demanded more. She was incapable of conscious thought. She couldn't even tell how or if he was responding. She needed him desperately and she let that need consume her.

She pushed him down and they fell on the floor. She still had him pinned below her and this angle felt even better. She could feel every part of his body beneath hers but of course there was one part that engrossed her. She rubbed herself against his perfect cock. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders and she pressed the ravenous pit between her legs against the bulging hardness that joined his own long sturdy legs. She barely had any control over her actions but she could feel herself losing the slight sliver of a grip she had over this very real moment. With some amazing feat of strength she managed to remove her face off his but was still only inches away and she panted heavily against him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," she murmured, keeping her eyes down. "I'm sorry, I can't stop," she gasped once she realized she was still kneading herself against his body. She couldn't stay away from him even if she wanted to. It was like every cell in her body was drawn to his. She had to connect them. She would go mad if she didn't have him inside her soon.

She tugged down at his pajama pants and the feel of his hot skin against her bare legs sent an urgent thrill through her groin. She had never been so grateful she had changed into her sleeping shorts and fumbled with the crotch of her shorts and panties, pulling them to the side.

She bucked up above him and slid her wet pussy lips up against his gloriously stiff clock. She thought she might come right then and there, without him even entering her. It was amazing just to feel its firm familiar smoothness glide up and down her clitoris, so close to her pulsing hole but not quite there.

"Oh my God. I need you so badly," she moaned.

She was so wet. All it would take was the barest nudge to his cock to tip it into her slick pussy. It was begging for him, for his rigid member to enter and fill up every bit of the desperate, wanting flesh inside her. She felt a warm, thick surge of wetness and knew it was his pre-come. She moved hungrily against the top of his engorged penis, spreading the pre-come along the sleeves of her pussy, right above its entrance. She groaned with anticipation. She wanted this so bad. But … but did he want it? What would happen if she just took him now? As far as he was concerned they'd only just met.

"Oh, fuck it," she gasped and drew her lower body up, enfolding the head of his cock into her throbbing wet folds. She stopped midway and looked down at him. His pelvis jerked up to join her as fully as he could reach with her hovering above him. His hands held onto her hips. They held her firmly but did not force her to move. His face was contorted, twisted with a need that seemed to rival her own.

"Please, please let me in," he groaned and his fingers splayed out, opening and closing tightly around her hips.

"But, you are in," she whispered teasingly and moved her hips slowly up and down, letting his cock inch in and out of her.

"Oh God, do you want me to come like this?" he rasped and she felt another spurt of wetness but this time it shot up inside her as she glided fractionally into him.

That was enough teasing. She was ravenous and she plunged down onto him. Her head, neck and back bowed backward, enjoying the fullness of his thrumming, enlarged cock deep inside her. She grinded down on him, taking in every bit she could and he issued a low guttural growl that melded with the sounds of her own mewling cries of pleasure.

She heard a ripping sound and felt her hips freed from the constricting cloth of her shorts and panties. She briefly glimpsed the vision of the torn pieces of fabric flung to the side. She really started moving then, practically jumping up and down his throbbing cock, sliding in and out of her at a rapidly building pace. Each stroke down to meet him at the hilt of the solid flesh that joined his cock to his rocking pelvis grew almost violent and she fleetingly worried they might be making too much noise. Her senses were filled with the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, their grunts of pleasure each time they were completely united. She forced herself to swallow the screams that were building up her throat, emanating from the sheer stark primal gratification that his swollen organ, buried inside her, coaxed out of her body. He also seemed to be fighting to contain his own cries as he thrashed his head left and right and gritted his teeth, his lips curling back to reveal an obvious struggle to hold himself back.

"I'm coming, Jace," she gasped in a high voice. "Come with me," she begged. She needed to feel their comingling sex, vibrate together, fused in this way that they had always so perfectly, naturally matched in synchronicity before.

She breathed a loud sigh of relief when she felt her own slick undulating walls joined by the pounding of his quivering cock, ejaculating hot squirts of thick semen inside her.

It had been so long since she felt so wonderfully and completely satisfied this way. The dark longing that had been coiled tight inside her deliciously unfurled. It was so good, too good. She could die utterly happy at this very moment. She collapsed onto him breathing heavily. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kept her face buried into his neck, his cock still warmly entombed inside her. She never wanted to let go.

Would she have to let go, she thought drowsily, well sated and ready to fall into an exhausted sleep. What the hell, her mind lit up. I can't fall asleep like this. She shook her head slowly but the back and forth motion of her head with her nose pressed against the crook of his neck flooded her senses with his intoxicating scent and she couldn't stop herself from the automatic impulse to slide his spent cock up and down the weeping walls of her pussy.

"No," she breathed out shakily and pulled herself off him.

He answered with a low, pained moan but did not attempt to stop her.

She stayed above him, keeping herself propped up on her elbows, the upper half of her body directly above him but the lower half angled away from him.

"I guess it's not as good for you as it used to be," she whispered a little remorsefully but was feeling too good to let the thought affect her sublimely contented mood.

He blinked rapidly and gave her a strange look. "What are you talking about?"

The long fingers of one of his hands brushed lightly up and down her back prompting her to shiver while his other arm wrapped around her waist and kept her firmly at his side. She draped over him and nestled into his neck once again.

"I love you, Jace. I always will," she muttered so quietly she knew he could not hear her.

"Were you joking?" Jace asked her. His brows knit together, his face baffled.

"We can't lie around here like this," she gave him a squeeze then let go to move away. "I'm fairly certain it won't be pretty if anyone else in this house catches us like this."

"I – okay, let's go somewhere else – to talk," he answered. He spoke haltingly and sounded abashed.

She looked into his eyes to ascertain the source of his discomfort but he kept his eyes down so she couldn't see. I can't obsess about this now, she thought. Seriously need to get dressed at the very least … and find the torn bottom half of her garments. That should definitely not be lying around for Jonathan to stumble onto. Fortunately the t-shirt she wore was on the long side and it just covered her bare ass. It was strange to realize this Jace hadn't yet seen her completely naked but she had just ridden him as if it was her right, as if he belonged to her and she could do whatever she wanted with his body. She squirmed thinking about it. She already wanted more. This was what he did to her but it seemed he was no longer possessed by the same consuming, overpowering passion for her. She knew the old Jace, the pre-accident Jace would not have let her detach from him until he pumped at least another two loads of semen into her and she would have been powerless to stop him because he controlled her body. He still did but he was different now … tentative, unsure.

Ah, there they were. She bent down and retrieved the ruined shorts and panties. She held them up with a smirk on her face then rolled them into a ball and turned back to Jace. He was still on the floor but had sat back against the couch and pulled up his pants. One knee was drawn up halfway and he had a hand resting on it. His body appeared relaxed but she could tell he was far from it. Even without the unspoken transmission between them, she could see the tension around his neck and his shoulders were stiff. He watched her warily but turned his eyes away as soon as she fixed her gaze on them.

They definitely had to talk. She didn't even want to voice the possibilities swimming around in her head. Whatever had him so ill at ease was probably … not good but he was still here and he said himself they needed to talk so he wasn't racing away from her.

"I'll just go get dressed. Do you … do you want to talk in my room?" She wasn't sure if that was a good idea but she wasn't sure where would be a better place.

Jace shook his head slowly. "I'm going to text Alex. Let her know we're getting out of here. I did promise her I'd tell her if I stepped out of this house. Let's go to the playground. There's one only two blocks away, right? Why don't you write a note to your brother, aunt. Let them know we stepped out for a walk in case they wake up before we get back."

She wanted to ask him if he was okay but she was afraid of what he might say. "Alright. I'll be back in a few minutes."

She trudged up the stairs. She was too lost to her own anxiety to recognize the swelling fear that rose out of him as she moved away. She felt its aura but believed it came from her own swirling consternation.


	33. Chapter 33 Swing

Her hand was so small but so sweet and so perfect wrapped in his own hand. It felt as if it always belonged there, her slight fingers entwined through his own. If there was a way to stare at her, inspect every part of her dazzling face while they continued their walk to the small park without falling flat on his own face, he would be transfixed … but then, he also despaired from the weight of her emerald gaze. It was too clear, too penetrating. He felt certain she could see everything with those bright green eyes and when they locked onto his own eyes, he was terrified of the horrifying fate she would see in them, the terrible end that befell anyone who captured a Herondale's heart.

She would know he was a cursed, wretched soul. She would know and she would run from him. She would be right to run, but he was too selfish. When he first laid eyes on her, face to face, he knew he needed her. He belonged to her. He was hers to play with, she could do anything she wanted with him as long as she didn't spurn him. He would live out the rest of his days whole and complete as long as he could be near her, as long as she allowed him into her life.

And then … she found out … about Erica, that awful day when he ignored his instincts, trusted his grandmother, trusted the black haired slime and he wrote that letter. He had not thought of Erica since that first week they had parted when he had broken things off between them. The regret, the guilt, were still fresh on his mind then. He had certainly not given her a moment's consideration since he saw Clary's picture and his heart had been dominated by the need to go to her. He had not understood what it meant at the time but now he knew. He came to offer himself to her, beg her to take him. He was her slave. His brain had no idea how thoroughly she possessed him but his heart had known. His soul had known he had no choice but to find her.

The cyclone of events within the hours since they met had his head spinning, his heart pounding through his chest. She already owned him from the moment he saw her and then … she physically claimed him. He had not expect that … at all.

He had not been able to sleep, just a few restless minutes when he could close his eyes and lose consciousness for a bit and then roused up again by the gnawing fear, the punishing diatribe in his head. What if she didn't want anything more to do with him? What if Sebastian was right and she chose him instead? What if it was too late and he had already lost her? It was impossible to relax enough to sleep with these distressing thoughts running rampant through his head.

And then he felt something … an electric energy went through his body. He was spread out over the Fairchild's living room couch, a fretful alarm keeping his body on edge, when suddenly there was another sensation that overwhelmed every other perception. An excited rush coursed through him. He could feel something extraordinary reaching out for him, coming towards him, and he knew where he had encountered this reaction before, when she had been close, just a few feet in front of him.

His eyes flew open and she was there. She was all untamed vivid red curls and even in the dark shadows with only a weak cascade of moonlight filtering through the closed drapes, she shined. Her legs were bare in shorts and her flawless milky skin made his heart stutter. But it was her eyes, those brilliant green orbs that could not be diminished even in the murky gloom that had him paralyzed and quaking.

He could tell she was about to retreat and he implored her to stay. They spoke briefly. He tried to tell her … but he didn't know how. How do you tell someone you only just met that you couldn't live without her? How did that make any sense? It didn't, and so he couldn't say the words. He wasn't sure what happened next. All he could summon to his mind was that somehow she landed on top of him … and she took him. He lost all sense of himself then. As soon as he felt her hands, her lips, that body all over his, he wasn't even aware of himself as a separate person. He was a conduit for raw, unrelenting passion.

It was astonishing how quickly, how easily, she accessed and stirred this insane lust he had no idea he could even wield. It was an overwhelming need to join his body with hers. It went beyond desire. It was the knowledge that he was so close, mere centimeters, to an earth shattering connection that would undo all the ties to the world he knew.

On some level he knew he already left that world behind, when he left Manhattan, hiding from his grandmother. It hadn't felt cowardly. It felt like a necessity although he couldn't explain why. But now, he knew once she engulfed him, there would never be any turning back and suddenly he remembered Sebastian's words, when he said she would never let him leave. He had no idea what that meant at the time those words were uttered but now he knew. He couldn't leave. He needed her. He wouldn't survive without her touch, not anymore, not now after he knew what it felt like to couple with her into one infinite being.

They walked silently but it was peaceful. They didn't need to fill the tranquility with words. There was a fullness to the moment in a way he had never imagined. Just being out in the open air by the side of this small girl made the world complete. There was nothing else but her and him. She embodied all his hopes. She was his world.

They had reached the playground and she darted away onto the swings. She was so quick and already flying up and down, smiling gleefully.

"I haven't been here in ages," she told him as she soared past him.

He took a seat on the swing next to her and just savored the sight of her, legs outstretched in black leggings, her oversized hooded sweatshirt sailing against her well formed breasts and her red curls trailing behind her head like a streak of dancing flames. He barely swung back and forth. He was too mesmerized by the sight of her to put any effort into his swings.

"Oh come on," she chided. "You can do better than that. You're like twice my size. You should be able to touch the sky," she laughed challengingly.

He got up then and plucked her off her swing when she careened toward him. He had to twirl her around midair to slow the momentum of her trajectory and they both laughed with abandon. She had her arms wrapped around his neck. She was a strong little thing, he thought when he realized he didn't actually have to hold her so firmly. She could easily hang onto him with her own strength. It seemed so at odds with her delicate beauty but it was just another trait, an endless list, that made his heart overflow with admiration. Dawn was breaking and there was a foggy mist in the air. The tumbling waves on her head glistened wetly. He brought a hand up massaging the base of her neck.

"Your hair is wet," he scowled at her.

"I took a quick shower," she answered blithely.

"You shouldn't be outside with wet hair. It's cold and you're …," he started speaking in a proprietary voice but trailed off before completing his sentence.

"I'm fine." Her big green eyes sparkled. She seemed amused. "So, I'm not complaining, but are we just going to stand here like this?" she questioned with a shrug.

He still had an arm around her and she still had her own arms looped around his neck. Her feet dangled off the ground. His hand stayed snugly behind her head, at the nape of her neck, and kept her in place when he lowered his face and brought their lips together. He had only meant to offer a light and tender kiss but her lips were so soft. She tasted fresh and sweet like a succulent peach. It was funny. He had never been a big fan of peaches but now they were easily his favorite fruit. He was pretty sure he could eat them all day. Her body was firm but so inviting. They melded into each other effortlessly. He felt her legs hitch up and latch around his waist. He knew if he didn't stop what was happening between them this very second, he would take her. Especially now that he knew how phenomenally mind blowing it was to mate with her. He knew he wouldn't have any control very soon so he pushed her off abruptly, much less gently than he would have wanted but it was either that or tear her leggings off and bury himself inside her in the middle of a public playground.

His breathing was heavy and jagged. He was bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath and calm the fierce excitement coursing through him. This was unreal. He had never felt anything like it, as if his very soul were dry plains and a violent wildfire had ignited and run wild across it.

"This is crazy," he spoke aloud unintentionally.

"Why did you stop?" she asked. She sounded … angry. He looked up at her and regretted it instantly.

She was glaring at him. Her emerald eyes cut into him. She had her arms folded over her chest and she looked pissed … but so lusciously fuckable. Her mouth was turned down into a plush pout and her cheeks were flushed a blooming pink. Her hair was everywhere. The air was chilly and a drafty breeze had caught her tangled curls and brought them blazing up around her face. Even in her rigid stance, all he could see were the supple rounded curves of her body. He guessed the voluptuous fullness to her body was probably a newly acquired change due to her condition by the way her otherwise loose sweatshirt stretched around her bosom and hips. He averted his eyes but the vision of her was already seared into his head and he both despaired and rejoiced over it.

"Why did you push me away?" she said louder.

He shook his head. He couldn't look at her and keep away from her. Was it always going to be this excruciating around her? No, of course not, he tried to reason. He'd previously had a year to tolerate this deluge of desire she inspired and what they were going through now … this wasn't normal. He didn't know when they started sleeping with each other before but he knew from the messages he'd listened to, they certainly hadn't gotten there three months after they'd started dating. Before he met her, he had found it hard to imagine he could have possibly waited that long for any girl but now it was obvious he'd wait for her, forever if he had to.

Except that of course was the polar opposite of what he'd encountered today, the most exhilarating, erotic, sexual experience of his life, only hours after being introduced to this girl who'd already wrecked his world the moment he saw her. He couldn't tell up from down, left from right.

"I'm just – completely fucked up," he answered between pants, his eyes still planted on the ground around his feet. "I don't know how to be around you."

"You don't want to be with me?" Her voice was no longer angry. It sounded sad.

"What are you talking about?" He was so confused. "I can't control myself. I can't even look at you without wanting -," he gulped. He had to just say it even if she thought he was a horrific beast. "—to take you. I'm sorry. I just, I can't explain it. This has never happened before. I-I'm going to need some time to -," What? What was going to happen? Would time magically relieve this mad, fucked up frenzy in his body? "—adjust … I think, I think … I'll get better." He couldn't even say it convincingly because his gut told him eons could pass and that wouldn't make a goddamn difference.

The air between them seemed to warm and he exhaled with relief. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding in a pent up panic, fearing her response, until this moment when he could sense … she wasn't mad. She wasn't going to bolt away from him.

"Oh, Jace," she breathed. "Is that all it is?"

The thrill again, stimulating every part of him. He would have stepped away from her if he could but … he couldn't. She was coming closer. This was all about to blow up and he couldn't do anything to stop it. If he tried to move he knew he would only grab her and force himself on her.

"What are you doing?" he rasped out. "Didn't you hear anything I just said? I can't stop myself, not right now."

"Then don't," she answered quietly but stopped moving toward him.

In fact, he could feel her distance herself from him. He groaned loudly knowing this was what he wanted, to protect her, but also struggled desperately from hurtling himself at her.

"Trust me, Jace," she said so lavishly he felt his toes curling. There was really no choice.

"Of course," he answered almost mutely.

"We have to get back to my home," she stated. "I have some things I have to pick up there."

He shook. "But, we haven't talked. We have to … we have things we need to … work out." He couldn't leave things like this. He needed to know … that she understood … that she was his and they'd never be apart again.

"Yes, we'll talk," she said in the same calm and generous voice. "But first, we need to be alone … for a week, maybe two? We'll get this oppressive compulsion out of our system and then we can talk. But first, we fuck, non-stop, barely getting out of bed, constant fucking. I've got some money saved up, I can spring for a hotel room for two weeks. We'll need room service cause I don't see either of us letting you pull out long enough to go out to get food and water. Is that okay with you?"

His eyes sprang up and he stared at her, speechless. She smiled gently and beckoned him with a gesture of her hand, maintaining a ten foot space between them. She turned around and walked toward her home, her curls bouncing at her back. He lurched after her. He probably moved like some Frankenstein crossed with a zombie. He was so thoroughly floored by her, he couldn't even form a full, intelligible thought. He'd have to send a text to Alex but he had no idea what he would tell her.

"You don't remember what it was like between us, but since we started," her voice sounded vaguely uncomfortable, "having sex, we've been at it like rabbits. We'd never been apart longer than a week and then we'd stay at your grandfather's place and well, you can imagine what we did there. I think the last time I saw you we did it more than thirty times within less than twenty four hours and that was only after a week you were away, when you started Harvard, so after three months apart, I can barely think straight … having you so close."

She turned halfway back to peer at his face but she kept moving and didn't allow any contraction to the space between them. He thought she looked rather shyly at him and it seemed so bizarre, a stark contrast to her bluntly honest assessment of their carnal activities that he couldn't help pinching roughly at his hands to see if he was lost in a dream.

"Wait a minute," he stopped short. "I was … at Harvard?"

"Um … yeah, I mean -," she turned to face him fully but stood a good distance away now, "you were all set to start but the semester hadn't actually started yet and you came back … to surprise me."

He watched her gnaw on her bottom lip and took a few small steps closer to her, conscious not to get too near and possibly spur on the unrestrained craving again. "Nobody told me … about Harvard. I – grandmother – had me all set up to go to Cambridge … in England. I … wish I could remember."

"Oh, baby." Her anguished face and slanting body language made it clear she wanted to comfort him. She made a motion toward him.

He stepped back two long steps and held up his hands. "We'll … talk … later. Right?" As he acknowledged the postponement of their conversation and basically confirmed where they were headed and what he would be doing to her, incessantly, for an exalted week, maybe two, a burning heat went through his body. "Can we – hurry?"

A small smile appeared on her face. "Shall I race you?"

He lowered his face immediately. He had to keep his eyes off her if they were going to make it to the hotel. "No, that wouldn't be a good idea … if I caught you … and I would catch you. Let's just keep moving."

"Well, I'm running and you can move at your own speed," she said sportively, then turned back face forward and sprinted away.

Shit, he thought. He couldn't let her out of his sight. If anything happened to her! He didn't know why he considered that possibility but he couldn't banish the notion. He had to know she was safe at all times. He rushed after her. She was fast but no match for his long strides.


	34. Chapter 34 Prelude

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They slowly broke their kiss. It was soft, slow and deeply probing, matching the intensity of their grinding bodies. They were both sitting up, facing each other. She was propped up over his lap, her legs straddled over his hips, his cock sheathed inside her. Their bare skin slid against each other over entwined limbs. This was how they spent their days and nights for the last two weeks with short interludes to eat, bathe and sleep but they were no longer pawing each other like rabid animals, not like the first week.

"It's so good," he mumbled. "How can it be this good? How does it keep getting better?"

He grunted when she responded by deliberately digging her groin muscles around his rigid shaft. It would be their last night at the Westerley Hotel, two weeks of pure bliss. He was still trying to get her to agree to another week's stay but his repeated entreaties were met with an adamant shake of her head and pursed lips that he always kissed back into its sweet open mouthed curve.

"You know I want to," she explained and there was an irrefutable longing in her voice, "but it was a miracle getting Jonathan to agree to let us escape these two weeks. There's just no way he'll agree to another week and I don't want to stress him out anymore. I don't want him obsessing over me while he's back at Northwestern."

Jace perked up. "So, he's not moving back?"

He'd only had fond memories of Jonathan so at first it was more than a little disconcerting when he recognized the cool hostility that constantly seemed to emanate from Jonathan at his direction.

The run back to her house from the park had been invigorating and had them both laughing loudly between deep breaths. He had slowed down once he fell only a few steps behind her around the playground corner and he let her lead the way home until they reached her walkway and he sprinted forward, grabbing her up in his arms and arrived at her front door. They were joined together again. He had her pressed against him, his arms wrapped around her waist, her hands knotted together behind his shoulders, their eyes alight from the exercise and locked on one another. Their faces drifted toward each other and just as their lips were inevitably about to meet, the door opened and Jonathan demanded they get their asses inside.

Several minutes later, Jace realized it was actually a good thing that Jonathan had interrupted them at that moment since he was well aware that she could so easily propel him into their alternate universe where he had no conception of time and place and that would have been a very bad place to go right outside on her front porch. But at the time, it was just painful pulling his mouth away from hers and removing her from his arms. He could feel Jonathan seething as he struggled to extract himself and for a split second he despised Jonathan almost as much as Sebastian. He loathed anyone and anything that would keep them apart. Her hand brushed his cheek in a feather light touch and she whispered "soon" so sensually in his ear, the rising agitation dissipated. He was slightly gratified that she moved with a disjointed awkwardness as she shifted off him, identical to his own stilted movements. He began to comprehend that she wanted him, that she might want him almost as much as he wanted her and this understanding filled him with such elation it made it easier to control the raving hunger for her rioting through his body.

He had waited for her in the living room when she dragged Jonathan away for a private family discussion. He tried to keep busy packing up his bag, the luggage he had brought with him from the airport and retrieved from Alex's car before she left. Which reminded him, he owed her a call. He picked up his phone and dialed her number.

She picked up on the first ring. "Jace!" she sounded anxious. "You okay? You ready to come over?"

Jace glanced up at the ceiling and tried not to overthink what he would tell her. "Jesus, Alex. Were you just sitting there with the phone attached to your head? I'm fine. I think … things are going to be okay."

Alex said nothing for a beat and then, "Good, good. You want me to come get you?"

"Um, no," Jace floundered. "Listen, we—we're going someplace … to be alone. Someplace in town, so … I'll call a car. No need for you to worry or trouble yourself."

"Uh-huh," Alex replied. "That good, huh?"

Jace couldn't tell if she was joking. Why did everything that involved Clary feel like … such foreign territory? He couldn't even tell what his best friend thought about them.

"Yeah," Jace responded lamely.

"So how long are you two going to be 'alone'?" This time Jace could hear the smirk in Alex's voice. "And where are you going?"

"Why are you saying it like that?" Jace asked semi-indignantly.

"Oh, just calm down," Alex answered. "I had to endure the two of you together on more than one sickening occasion and I've got a pretty good idea what this 'alone' time is all about."

Jace cleared his throat. "Okay, I'm sorry. This has just been … overwhelming."

"I know, Jace," Alex said sympathetically. "So, you two are together now? Where are you taking her? You know it's not a good idea to go back to your loveshack."

"What?" Jace asked baffled. "Are you talking about my house?"

"Duh, of course," Alex sounded a little exasperated. "I wasn't aware of Clary owning another house on the side. The place your grandfather left you, where you and Clary would disappear into every chance you got. It seriously got to a point where I barely saw you anymore Jace. You two were so loved up in that place. Not that I'm complaining. Better in there than out in public in front of weak stomachs. It was almost criminal the way you two used to carry on."

A singular feeling came over him. He thought he might actually be jealous of himself, a past self who owned these memories he no longer possessed.

"Oh," was all he could summon.

"Yeah, so don't go there," Alex warned. "I have a bad feeling about it. I'm pretty sure your grandmother is having that place watched."

"What would happen if she found me?" Jace asked. He didn't really expect an answer. It was more a question for himself to ponder. "What could she do to me? Does my happiness mean nothing to her?"

Alex clucked in response. "I don't know, babe, but we both know she didn't want you anywhere near Idris. Sebastian may be a first class shithead but I don't think he was lying about her feelings … for Clary."

Jace was overcome by a numbing rage. "I have to go, Alex. Clary will be back soon and I have to call that car." They said their goodbyes and he had to promise Alex to text her every day, let her know where he was, that he was alive and well.

He had gotten Alex off the phone and he sat there with a damning conclusion brooding over him. Grandmother truly had no care for his happiness. How else to explain her efforts to keep him away from Idris, from Clary. Was it possible she didn't know? Was it possible she misunderstood, that she underestimated what Clary meant to him, that he couldn't be happy without her? As crazy as it seemed, he reasoned Grandmother must have met her. He had never contemplated introducing her to any of the girls he dated but Clary was different, of course. She certainly knew who Clary was when Sebastian had brought her up at the hospital. An abrupt tension had risen on her face but he had been too amazed at what Sebastian described, a girl he had been seeing for a year, a girl he cared about … to really register her expression or consider what that might mean. And of course, there was that photo the Marchioness had shown him of the two of them together at some posh event, where doubtless his grandmother had required his attendance so she must have known Clary at that point and had even permitted him to bring her as his date instead of the usual high society debutante? None of it made sense except the notion that Grandmother had no compassion for them, for him. All his life he had strived to please her, make her acknowledge his worth, give her a reason to love him but he had never felt he'd made any progress towards that end and after a while he had been driven to placate her, submit to her demands, by habit and a desire to honor his grandfather's memory. And now? He lost this line of thought when his body thrilled to her proximity and his eyes already planted on the ground by his feet focused on her perfectly shaped legs and adorably bare feet. His hands involuntarily reached out to pull her in closer.

He closed his eyes and rested his head on her abdomen, his arms enveloped her waist and he sunk into her softness.

"I missed you," he whispered into her.

Her hand caressed his face and then swept gently down the back of his head. Her fingers played with the curling strands of gold hair at the nape of his neck. "I wasn't gone long and I was only in the other room," she said in a quiet but chidingly playful tone.

He lifted his face up to her, his nose just under the swell of her breasts. "I can't live without you."

She raised her brows with surprise. "You don't have to say that. You only just met me. I don't expect you to feel that way. I mean … you were living just fine before you met me … before today."

He shook his head. "No, that wasn't living. I've never felt alive, truly alive, until I first heard your name and saw your picture and now that you're here … in front of me … every other moment I can remember is … a dull shadow."

He couldn't help himself. He brought her even closer to him and then lifted his chin to kiss her breasts over her sweatshirt. His hands were moving under it when he was shut down by an iron grip over his forearm.

"Not here. I can only take so much and I'm definitely not going to let you feel up my sister … with me standing right here." Jonathan's voice was as hard as his hold over Jace's arm. "And I need to talk to you. Alone."

"Jonathan," Clary turned to him with an exasperated expression. "Is that necessary? I don't see why I have to be excluded from this conversation."

"Clary," Jonathan returned his own beleaguered countenance at her. "You agreed I could talk to him. That was one of the conditions to your-," a sour look came across his face, "—get away."

"Yes, but-," Clary worried with a comforting hand that remained on Jace's head.

"No," Jonathan would hear no more from her. "It's either that or he can get the fuck out … and maybe he can see you again … under supervision."

"You're being ridiculous," Clary fumed. "He's the father of my unborn child and the lo-," she cut off abruptly, swallowing the words she was about to say and released Jace.

"What?" Jace tried to regain her attention. What was she going to say? He felt an overpowering need to know. "Tell me, please."

She looked away from him. He couldn't even get a glimpse of those beautiful green eyes but at least she didn't pull out of his arms. Jonathan, however, yanked impatiently on his arm and Jace had the urge to shove him away.

"Just go, Jace," she said in a subdued voice.

"What is it, Clary?" He felt weak saying her name. He felt weak looking up at her, absorbing her inescapable beauty and yet knowing … there was something wrong. She was holding something back … and she was troubled.

She let out a long breath and finally turned her eyes back at him. Her lips lifted upward but her smile did not reach her shining eyes. "We'll talk later. I promise. After, we've … had our time together … but first, talk to Jonathan." She rolled her eyes and dipped down to whisper in his ear. "Just say what makes him happy … so we can be alone. You don't have to mean it."

Jace scrutinized her wonderingly. What did she mean? What did she want? He would give her anything to make her happy. What had upset her? What had he done?

"Okay, loverboy, get your mitts off my sister." Jonathan wrested Jace away but Jace's eyes lingered on her trying to uncover what she wouldn't say with his last step out of the room.

She nodded encouragingly. "Ten minutes, Jonathan, and then I'm coming to get him."

Jonathan lead Jace upstairs and into a dark room. The dark blues, and black trims along the walls accented by a burnt umber dresser, headboard and desk gave it a distinctly masculine atmosphere. It was too gloomy for Jace, who preferred a stark white décor himself, to feel comfortable and he was mildly surprised that Jonathan would choose such a somber environment for himself.

"You can sit," Jonathan gestured at a chair next to the desk and Jace took a seat.

Jace had not considered his relationship with Jonathan. Clary was everything. There had been no room to think of anything else but he had to face this reality now … that there were other people who could … change things … who could influence her. Jace watched Jonathan warily.

"So, Clary tells me you two need to go away, spend some time alone to figure things out." Jonathan sat on the edge of his bed, facing Jace. "Where are you taking her?" Jonathan sounded calm but Jace could see his eyes flashing dangerously.

"We'll stay local," Jace answered. "Where ever she wants. I'll do anything she wants."

"Really?" Jonathan lifted an eyebrow. "And if she wants you to take a flying leap off Mount Alicante?"

"Anything," Jace affirmed with a grimace.

Jonathan narrowed his gaze. "Anything she wants ... that doesn't sit well with you, does it? But what do you want? What do you want from my sister?"

Jace felt astounded by Jonathan's questions. "I don't know what you're talking about. I want whatever makes her happy. I just … I don't know … what that is and what … she wants from me. I want … I need to be near her."

"Are you going to marry her? Are you going to take care of her … and your child?" Jonathan asked brusquely. His eyes were cold green stones.

"I—of course, I'll do, I-," Jace felt himself freeze. His own golden eyes widened and reflected a paralyzing fear.

"What?" Jonathan demanded, clearly growing agitated. "You don't know?"

"I—I—only just found out she's pregnant when she called me a little while before I got here and I only just met her today and I," Jace became more bewildered with each passing second. "I know I—I need her and I know I—I'll do whatever she wants."

Jonathan sat back, glowering at him but no longer had swirling storm clouds in his eyes. "I'm almost feel sorry for you," Jonathan muttered. His shoulders relaxed fractionally. "Almost."

"I understand-," Jace ran a hand through his hair, "-you don't like me. This is just … crazy … for me. I knew I had to meet her and now I've met her and I know I have to be wherever she is and now … now I'm thinking I'm going to marry this girl, that I want to marry this girl but I only just met her and … it's stupid, it's crazy, it's like I'm looking up at a giant wave, bigger than a skyscraper building. It's about to come down on me. I'm watching it all happen in slow motion and I can't do anything. I don't want to do anything but sit beneath it and let it crush me." He was shaking as he spoke. He was fairly sure Jonathan would not appreciate his description of what had befallen him since he met Clary. He just couldn't hold it in, not when Jonathan was glaring at him, accusing him with those green eyes, so like her own mesmerizing eyes, accusing him of not doing enough, of … not … being … enough.

Jonathan regarded him coolly. "Alright, Jace. You can have your time alone with my sister. Figure out what you two are going to do. I have to get back to college, make my own arrangements to transfer back here. She's going to need me, especially if you flake out."

"You don't need to do that," Jace was a little stunned by his own vehemence. "I mean I know she wouldn't want you to give up what you've got going on. I'm not going to flake out on her. I'm not going anywhere."

Jonathan's lips thinned. His eyes drifted up and down Jace, weighing and judging. "We'll see, won't we?"

Jonathan got up slowly. Jace thought he looked like he was struggling to keep his hands flat at his sides. There was a strange stiffness to his fingers and they kept curling up before he determinedly flattened them out again. "She'll be banging on this door any minute. You better go."

Jace rose up on his feet. He couldn't suppress the excitement that bubbled up inside. He would see her again, in just a moment. He would have her in his arms again. They would be alone. He moved quickly to the door and swung it open. She was standing expectantly on the other side. He grabbed her up and embraced her.

"Are you okay? You're … trembling," she spoke quietly into his ear. Her own arms wrapped tightly around his neck. "Did Jonathan upset you?"

"No, no," Jace murmured in her hair, taking a deep breath. He grew heady from her scent. "I'm just … happy … to see you."

Clary pulled away to examine his face. He thought she might be looking at him as if he were mad. He studiously avoided her eyes but his breathing unavoidably quickened from just the peripheral sight of her.

"So where are you two headed?" Jonathan spoke grimly.

"I'm taking her to the Westerley," Jace placed her gently on the floor and encased one of her hands firmly in his. He turned to face Jonathan. "We'll be under the name, Michael Wayland."

Jonathan's face grew darker, staring unblinkingly at Jace but he said nothing to him. His face softened when he shifted his gaze down to Clary. "Remember what we talked about. Text me the room number as soon as you get there. I expect to hear from you everyday. Right?"

"Yes, don't worry, big brother," she said firmly. "And remember what I told you about school. Just finish the year out and then we can discuss any permanent changes."

"Clary-," Jonathan's had a warning tone to it.

"Jonathan, I'll be fine," Clary interjected, "I promise I'll tell you if I need you. Please, I'll never forgive myself if you drop out."

Jace had been forced to momentarily release her hand when Jonathan strode over and hugged Clary, all the while maintaining a dour gaze at Jace, and somehow they had made it out of that house, into the car service and at the hotel. They had not spoken since they left her home, but he kept her hand nestled in his and she did not try to remove it. When they reached the hotel, there had been some hushed but heated words between them when she realized he would not allow her to open the account and pay for it as she intended but he only had to point out a credit card was required to secure the room. She made some attempt to convince him to let her reimburse him but the more she persisted the more adamant he became that she would not be paying for anything and they arrived at their room with flushed and angry faces.

She wandered away from him and disappeared into the bathroom. He could hear the water running and so he turned on the TV and sat on the couch, his brows knit together, unable to discern anything he was watching. Was she always this pigheaded and stubborn? And why should any of this matter? Why would she insist on paying? He would take care of her. Didn't she know that? She was a mystery to him. He had no idea what she wanted and what triggered this disagreement between them. He had his arms folded over his chest, feeling surly and wronged, when he felt her presence again and looked up to see her standing a few short feet in front of him, completely naked.

"Are you just going to sit here and watch TV? I thought we came here to fuck until we can become rational human beings near each other." She sounded and looked angry but was the most breathtakingly stunning sight he had ever seen or imagined.

All of the frustration and offended conceit that he had been mulling over since they reached the room evaporated. He didn't even know how he got there but suddenly he was holding her, his hands greedily traveling everywhere over her perfectly lush and supple body and had his mouth over hers, his tongue lustily wrestling with her own soft wet tongue and she was tearing away his clothes and then he was on top of her and finally, he was inside her and everything was right again.

It was true. It had only gotten astonishingly better each time their bodies united but he wished he could go back to that first day only to have the two weeks ahead of them, together and alone all over again. They had been like savages those first few days. Constantly on top of one another. Even when they weren't actively coupling, which was a rare occurrence during that initial period, he stayed buried inside her. They had to be connected. It was as if they truly were one body.

It was after the first week that he had calmed enough to be able to make love to her, slowly, passionately. He could spend hours covering her flawless skin with adoring kisses but it never took long once he entered the warm wet tunnel between her legs before the blood rushed up his hard staff and his semen erupted out, drenching her over and over again. Sometimes he tried to check himself, hold back as long as he could to prolong their lovemaking before he penetrated but she was voracious. She would grab his ass and force him down into her and then of course it was all over. And then the way her body, the soaking passageway that housed his cock, resonated and pulsed, clenched and released his engorged member when she was coming, it was absolute ecstasy. They would only have another night at the hotel and he knew without a doubt he was addicted to her. He would never have enough of her and she was so perfectly made to fit him there was no one else for him but her.

They both cried out with their wet release and their bodies slowly relaxed, easing into the slumber that would take away their consciousness.

Before they could completely drift away, he whispered drowsily, "So, I don't think I'll ever be a reasonable human being around you. I'm pretty sure I will always have to be inside you, if you ever want to have a sensible conversation with me. Maybe we should stay here forever."

His eyelids felt heavy with sleep drawing him away. He sighed contentedly into the fragrant, cushiony waves of her long red curls at the crook of her neck. He had one arm beneath her head and the other arm embraced her snugly below her ripe breasts, her back against his chest.

"So maybe we should talk now," she said resolutely and his eyes flung open.


	35. Chapter 35 Forever

She turned to face him and even though they had spent almost every moment over the past two weeks, naked and connected to each other, the feel of their slick bare skin against each other, her full but firm breasts flattened against his hard chest had them both breathing a little faster.

"Are we really going to talk?" he asked her. His mouth moved down towards her and she felt herself spiraling into the desire that sparked in his eyes.

She thought there was only one thing to do if she actually wanted to have an intelligible conversation with him. She pressed up against him, puckered her lips, gave him a quick kiss and then swung one leg widely over his waist. She quickly inserted his spent cock inside her wet slit. He still filled her easily even when he was not fully erect. It didn't matter anyway since she could feel his immediate stiffening response. He groaned and clutched her ass, driving his rapidly hardening staff into her.

"Now, let's talk," she gasped. Maybe this wasn't the best idea but it felt so good. It was extremely difficult to keep her mind off the sensations that flared up been their attached body parts.

He half moaned and half chuckled," I really like the way you talk." He jerked his hips up to burrow into her deeper and she then she felt him freeze, hardening everywhere. "Unless you've 'talked' to anyone else like this," his voice was rough but she could hear a sharply grave edge to it.

It startled her enough that she would have withdrawn from him but he seized her hips and held her in place while his expanding cock claimed her completely.

"What do you mean by that?" she hissed. "I told you I've never been with anyone else before you."

"What about after?" he rasped, "with him?" His voice changed into a tone she had not heard in a long time.

"What are you talking about?" she asked even though she was pretty sure she already knew. Her body revolted against her will which wanted to push him away. Her body on the other hand slid beneath him and spread her legs broadly, giving him total access into her.

He took full advantage of the opening she presented and dove into her wildly. She began to feel the familiar tension mounting along the folds that he was rubbing fiercely against his pumping cock.

"You know who I mean," Jace spit out. "You were engaged to him. Remember? Was he inside here?"

It felt so fucking good. How did he do this to her? She was absolutely livid but her body was entirely his. He commanded it or at least his cock did.

"You're an asshole," she cried out. "No, no, he didn't get in there. He wanted to … and I probably would have let him if you hadn't shown up that night. I was supposed to stay with him. You said we were over. Remember!" She screamed as her pussy started convulsing and was well rewarded with his hot ejaculation running all over it.

"This belongs to me," he growled out. "Nobody else. Do you understand me? You're mine."

He collapsed down over her and she held onto him tightly. Despite his insane jealousy and the irritation that still hovered around her, even after the immense pleasure he gave her which did successfully clear away the fury that had ripped through her only moments ago, she adored him. She would always adore him.

She wasn't ready for him to get off her when he rolled away, his slackened cock sliding out of her but he pulled her to him so her head rested on his bicep and she lay on her side facing him.

"I'm not sure this is going to work," Jace mumbled, "that is—attempting to talk while I'm inside you," he smiled, "but we can keep trying it out if you want."

His smooth, well-muscled flesh was damp with his own powerfully masculine and provocatively scented sweat and his longish golden hair curled angelically framing his face. He was all tawny wheat and gold and his half hooded eyes were fringed by outlandishly long blonde lashes. He was so beautiful it made the muscles in her stomach curl.

"Well, we'll keep our options open," she answered. "Let's agree if our … conversation … gets too … heavy … we'll just screw away the tension."

His eyes widened and then he laughed. "Fine, but I'm warning you. I may be in a constant state of tension around you."

She let her fingers trail around his face, twirling the silky golden curls that fell just below his ears.

"I see you still have your absurd jealousy issues," she sighed.

Jace's brows lifted with surprise before settling into a frown. "No one's ever told me I have jealousy issues before," he said slowly, "but that's fair. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind when I think about you … and him. I suppose I'm having a hard time dealing with you two … getting engaged. How exactly did that happen?"

His hands dug at her hip and shoulder in a severe grip.

Clary glared at him disbelievingly. "You are out of your mind. I had no idea what happened to you. All I had to go by was that fucked up letter you sent me. In case you forgot, Jace, I'm pregnant. I was incredibly vulnerable and Sebastian has been … he's been there for me."

Clary stopped. A strange, unexpected wave of emotion rocked through her. "From the very first moment I told him I was pregnant, he was there for me. He told me he loved me, that he'll love me forever, that he would take care of me and my baby." She didn't understand why it hurt. She fastened her eyes on Jace, hoping the sight of him would provide some peace, some answers, explain what was this terribly confusing grief that was running through her, but she was met with a consuming hatred burning in his eyes.

"I'll kill him," he croaked out. "I want him dead. He kept us apart."

"Stop it, Jace," Clary fretted. "Maybe he was trying to protect me. I mean, he should have told me … about you … but … what if I found you … before you were ready to meet me and … you didn't want to know me and … you didn't want me. I would have died."

Clary was relieved to see the rage on his face melt away and was now replaced by a blank astonishment.

"How can you think that? If you had come to me … I would have fallen at your feet. I'm your slave. You know that, don't you? The second I saw you, I belonged to you … and you belong to me. Please, tell me you understand that." His eyes glistened and his face twisted with agony.

"What about your grandmother?" She placed both hands on his face and watched him cautiously.

Jace's face turned cold and obdurate. "What about her?"

"She wants me out of your life," Clary said calmly. "The last time I saw you, right before the accident, you told me she cut you off … I know it was because of me. You didn't say it but … she never liked me. I … I don't want to be the reason … you don't have your grandmother."

The frigid stony walls crashed down and he folded her into him. Their faces were hardly an inch apart. His eyes delved into hers. "What … what did she do to you?"

"That's not important," Clary tried to explain. "Please try to make things right with her. She's the only family you have … besides me … and our child, of course. I know you care about her … and … she just … she just doesn't understand … me." Clary took a deep breath before continuing, "I have nothing to offer you. She just wants someone … more for you. She wants … great things for you and … I'm nothing."

His face inflamed and he looked ready to explode until he expelled an anguished cry. "You're everything. You're everything to me. Never say otherwise. Never think otherwise. I'll do anything you want but … she's nothing to me. If she tries to separate us, I don't want her anywhere near me. If she can't treat you like the most precious gift that was ever created, she doesn't exist for me. I don't want you to argue with me or try to convince me to make amends with her. I'll never forgive her for … making you feel … like you could ever be less than perfect for me … but I'll give her a chance, for you. I'll give her one last chance."

Clary brushed their lips lightly together. "Thank you. I love you."

She watched him flinch back slightly but it didn't hurt the way it used to. She knew it was just the word that scared him. "Oh baby, don't worry. We have each other. We'll always have each other, won't we?" she whispered sweetly.

He radiated so much happiness at that moment she wanted it to last forever.

"You're all I need," he told her and their bodies came together, perfectly, the way they were meant to.

* * *

They were packed and ready to go. She took a moment, standing by the doorway with their bags lined up next to her, to survey the suite and let her gaze linger on the large king sized bed. She thought they really had not needed to pack more than basic toiletries since they had not needed any clothing. They had not left the room since they arrived two weeks ago and she had heard the chambermaids take to calling them the newlyweds. It brought a small smile to her face and then it faded away when she recollected a brief engagement that she had accepted for a minute before Jace returned. She and Jace had not really made any plans for their lives outside of their two week stay at the Westerley but there wasn't a doubt in her mind they would face everything together. She had not said it to Jace since she knew he would only insist on their staying but she really didn't feel ready to leave their sheltered paradise, room 359 at the Westerley Hotel. It was just a suite for two, a large bedroom with a connecting living room space housing a couch, dining table and television. The rose colored fabrics and the dark wood décor gave it a romantic ambience and there was a terrace that overlooked the green mountain scape, one of the natural beauties of Idris, but it was not as if either of them had spent anytime appreciating these features.

She jumped a little when she felt Jace's arm wrap around her hip and draw her to his side.

"We don't have to leave today. We could stay for another day," Jace suggested in a light tone but her response was automatic if slightly reluctant.

"No, we can't. Everyone is expecting us back today," she pointed out. "And, I have an appointment … with my doctor." She peered up at Jace a little concerned about how he would react.

She could certainly notice the changes to her body wrought by the new life growing inside her but Jace didn't remember what she was like before. For all he knew, she had always had the slightly swelling paunch to her belly and the enormous boobs.

Jace looked down at her worriedly. "Is everything okay? Is something bothering you?"

"No," she watched him carefully. "It's sort of a regular checkup … you know … cause I'm expecting a baby."

"Oh." His eyes grew larger. "Yeah, of course … so … how far along are you now?" he asked curiously.

She couldn't help the grin that danced over her lips. "I'm about four months now. Before you know it, we'll have a little Jace Junior to coo over."

His eyes seemed to pop out of his head. "Is it … it's a … are you…"

"Oh, shit," Clary clapped a hand over her mouth. "Did I just say that? I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I mean I wasn't planning to tell anyone but if anyone should get a heads up I guess that should be you," she reasoned to herself.

"So-," Jace seemed too stunned to complete his thought.

"Yes, we're having a boy," Clary smiled up at him. "And I hope he's exactly like you." She beamed at him and let her hands stroke the swell over her abdomen.

His gilded eyes dropped to their normal size but stared down at her piercingly and his hands cupped her face very gently. "You want this? This doesn't … make you … unhappy?"

She shook her head. "I was scared at first. I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't know what happened to you … but I never stopped believing you'd come back to me. I thought … you were just really mad at me … and then I got that note. I knew you wrote it." She looked up at him. Her eyes turned glassy with the memory. "But it didn't change how I felt about you. It couldn't change the love that created this baby. How could I feel anything but love for it?"

Jace stared at her with wide, wondering eyes. "It's so easy," he whispered. "It's so easy for you to say that … that you lo-." He closed his eyes and lowered his mouth over hers. He broke the tender kiss but his hands kept their place around her face and his thumbs lightly caressed her cheeks. "You know how I feel about you, don't you?" he asked quietly and it broke her heart a little to know how much he feared love that he couldn't even say it … but he did love her. She knew it.

She nodded and leaned her head into his right hand. "I know."

He breathed out in relief. She lifted her own hands to cover his, still embracing her face. She could gaze into his magnificent, gold speckled eyes forever. They glowed with so much peace and harmony.

"Can we promise to come back here to this room at this time every year? For the rest of our lives, right after Thanksgiving, I want to spend a week here with you. Just the two of us, whether we have ten kids or we're eighty years old. Can you promise?" he asked fervently.

She laughed, "Ten may be a little too much for me and what in the world would we do when we're eighty years old? I don't think even you will be up for any hotel room athletics at that age."

"I may slow down but I can't imagine ever not wanting you and even if we can't make love, we could just lie down and hold each other and that … would make it perfect," he said with such ardent certainty that he took her breath away.

"I love you, Jace," she told him, the tears coming unbidden to her eyes. "I know … you don't like to say it … but I'll say it enough for both of us. I love you and I always will."

"Forever," he whispered, lowered his head down to hers and kissed her profoundly.


	36. Chapter 36 Warfare

He seemed engrossed by the frost on the large windows facing North Campus. It was Core Math 101, a basic undergrad requirement and not particularly interesting. At least it was his last class today as the darkening skies that loomed outside seemed to attest the day's end. He had finally made arrangements to meet his Grandmother for an early evening tea and while that upcoming event brought a cringing anxiety he knew that was not the real source of the disquiet that permeated his day.

He always dreaded the moment when they parted in the mornings, when he dropped her off at Alicante High School and he headed off to the University but today there was an added sense of dread, that there was something hanging over their heads, ready to smother them. It bothered him to see the way she strained to be cheerful around him. He could see the stress and worry she tried so hard to disguise on her face.

Only two months had passed since their reunion on Thanksgiving Day but it felt like so much more time had passed with a whirlwind of events that should have extended over years. Sometimes he wondered how any of it was possible. How did he wake up one day, ready for Senior Year at a new high school only to learn that the year had already elapsed, that he who had long accepted and in fact to some degree appreciated his inability to form a romantic attachment to any girl given he considered it a fool's proposition was now completely enthralled by a living teenage goddess, that he would soon be a father to her unborn child, that his life's duty to serve and exalt the Herondale name was no longer his mission or even open to him, that he would now have to plot out a new unknown future which included the care of said goddess and offspring? In truth, he hardly had any time to ponder these myriad changes to his life. He was too busy dealing with the day to day challenges of this new and completely alien life ahead of him.

He still questioned why he was even enrolled at the university except that Clary had insisted. He had not wanted to spend any more of the funds he had socked away from his Grandmother's reach. The care that she and their son would require was his priority now and he had fully intended to find some employment, even getting as far as an offer at a car dealership but she wouldn't hear of it. She was adamant that he complete college, get his degree at least and make some informed decision on a 'real' career choice. He thought her stubborn and opinionated within twenty four hours after they first met and the more time they spent together the more he realized that had hardly scratched the surface. There was an indomitable will behind her exquisite beauty and when it was fueled by some instinct to protect and defend others it could not be overturned. He tried to argue, explain it didn't matter, it was just a job, a temporary means to provide for them, but she could not be convinced it would be anything but a dead end for him that would sap away his life. And to be honest, he knew they should have enough to comfortably provide for them and afford his university tuition but he had never had to consider how much he spent much less manage a family budget.

It was ludicrous that he had been so well groomed to oversee a business worth billions and was in truth already familiar enough with those operations that he could confidently examine a construction budget for millions with insight and expertise but had no idea what to buy and how much to spend on weekly groceries. Then there was the awkward living arrangements. Alex's warnings against returning to the house his grandfather left him seemed pointless once he knew Clary was his life and he was hers, that they could not be divided. He had tried to persuade her to move in with him there. It was larger and more comfortable than her aunt's home. She could even have her own studio space for painting and there was a perfect room close to the master bedroom they could convert into a nursery. But she was noncommittal and she didn't seem ready to detach from her childhood residence although she had quite a bit of her things at the larger abode she always had some reason why she needed to return to her Aunt's place and of course he could not spend a night without her so they would cram into her tiny bed which he actually secretly enjoyed since they had to entwine and enfold so thoroughly into each other. There was no room to manage sleeping in that bed together otherwise but sitting at the breakfast table, across from her Aunt Hodge's baleful glare was a decidedly gloomy affair and there was simply no space to afford any privacy. Still there was nothing better than holding her, limbs wrapped around each other, as they fell asleep and then waking up with her nestled in his arms, her beautiful face so peaceful, without a care, those soft red curls cushioning their faces like a fiery cloud.

She was obviously pregnant now. There was no hiding the growing life in her burgeoning belly. She moved clumsily and complained of aches and pains, swelling feet and a wolfish appetite. She was prone to fits of giggles at the sight of her aunt's meatloaf to tear wringing sobbing over an iphone commercial. He had never been so besotted. Their lovemaking did not abate but it had become a routine occurrence and was almost always managed very gently and slowly except when she forced a more driving pace which happened less frequently now. As much as he tried to restrain himself he could never resolve himself against her determined onslaught. They had a pattern; in the mornings right after they woke up, in the afternoons once they reunited after their daily activities separated them, again before dinner and then before they succumbed to sleep at night, unconscious in each other's arms. Even though he struggled to stay calm and controlled throughout their joining, he was still surprised by the intensity of the flooding release of pleasure. It was just as amazing if not better than those first two weeks when they couldn't get enough of each other and they were practically attached at all times.

It got harder to let her leave his sight, to know she was out there with God knows what lurking danger around her and him not by her side to protect her. He had tried to explain it to her, after suggesting he would return to High School with her. After all, he didn't remember what he learned that final year so there was some logic for him to redo his Senior Year. She responded with a snort, quite certain nobody remembered any classwork from Senior Year and the school would certainly not allow the Valedictorian to come back for a do-over. So when he disclosed his real concerns in an admittedly halting and confused rambling she only shook her head at him as if he were crazy, which he had enough sense to realize he probably did have a few loose marbles, and told him he was being ridiculous. And then that she loved him. She would say this so often and so freely that he almost began to accept it. He could even feel a warmth surge through him when she spoke these dooming words but he couldn't entirely stop his automatic reaction to stamp down on the desire to reciprocate and tell her the same.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. He had been so lost in his thoughts he had not realized class had ended and the room was almost empty.

"Hi Jace, looks like you're zoning out there."

"Hey, Aline," Jace nodded. "Yeah, I guess I'm a little preoccupied." He got up and started to pack away his things.

"So, have you given any more thought to the training camp we talked about?"

Jace turned to her a bit dazed. She was small and compactly built and she exuded strength and confidence just by the way she stood. Her coloring was so much like Alex's, short straight dark hair, ivory skin, that he supposed these similarities in their appearance as well as the resilient energy they both possessed made him almost immediately comfortable around her. They had this Math class together as well as a class on American History: A Study of National Defense, Security and Strategy. He wasn't sure what he would do with the information gained from this class but something about the course description interested him and he blandly reasoned it would fill some required credits toward his degree. It had actually turned out to be his favorite class this semester. He looked forward to the twice a week sessions and the lively debates that almost always ensued during class with Aline.

Jace knew Aline had plans to pursue a career in government, possibly FBI, CIA. She mentioned these possibilities broadly when Professor Stanley interrupted one of their class monopolizing verbal sparring sessions over the merits and disadvantages of drone technology to inquire what the two of them intended to do with their college degrees. Nobody seemed surprised by Aline's declaration but there was a strange silence when Jace answered he didn't know. After that, Aline seemed to make it her mission to vociferously explain a citizen's civic duties when he or she possessed the abilities to contribute to the nation's safety or to corner Jace after class prodding him to consider her own career path and then pressuring him to join her in a training course that incorporated elements of physical combat, individual and team attack maneuvers. Aline said it was a very small, exclusive group of trainees, not more than five people, normally handpicked by the instructor who it turned out was her own mother. So, it seemed she had an 'in' to this highly selective training camp and at first when Aline described the program, her mother's background in confidential elite government forces, Jace had been interested and even felt an unfamiliar spark of excitement at the prospect. He didn't know why it intrigued him. It was so far from any future he had ever envisioned but he couldn't deny it just felt like something he could do … and do well. But then, Aline went on with more details. It was a twenty week program that entailed a daily three hour regimen and he regretfully declined.

Another three hours a day would mean more than twelve hours separated from Clary during the normal weekdays with a full course load of classes and the loss of their weekends that they never spent apart, every hour almost entirely dedicated to each other. Despite the overwhelming twists and turns his life had taken since she entered his life, he knew she had become the center of his universe.

"You know it starts in another two week and my mother agreed to keep a spot open for you." Aline watched him intently. "That was no easy task."

"You shouldn't have done that," Jace answered with a shake of his head. He had trouble meeting her eyes, though. He knew he could not keep the regret entirely out of his own eyes and he realized she would not give up as long as she could see this internal struggle. She was hardly letting it go as it was.

"I know that, Jace," she said sternly. "But I also now you could really be great. I think you'll regret passing this up. I think we might all regret it."

Jace sighed. She was nothing if not tenacious. "I don't know why you'd think that. The only thing you know about me is that I'm good at arguing with you."

Aline eyed him thoughtfully. "Don't let it get to your head but I've been watching you. I know you're strong and smart and most importantly you've got a knack for this."

"For what?" he asked perplexed.

Aline smirked at him, "for fighting … for battling, for warfare."

Jace gaped at her. "You're nuts. I don't have the slightest clue where you'd get that idea."

"Oh come on, Jace," she slouched back onto a desk, facing him with her arms crossed over her chest but she looked always ready to move, ready to counter any opposition, never off guard.

Jace wondered vaguely why he came up with this observation and then shrugged it off.

"I've seen you sparring in the ring," she continued knowingly.

He goggled at her before recovering. "So what? I'm just dicking around in there."

"Exactly," she answered and then stood up straight. "You're just 'dicking around' but you're easily besting professional fighters. Tell me you're not interested. Tell me that what I'm saying … doesn't make sense to you."

Jace looked at her suspiciously. "And you're an expert in all this? Are you some kind of career counselor now?" He almost laughed. "Hey," he frowned as Aline's words begain to sink in. "Have you been stalking me?"

She grinned at him. "Let me introduce you to my mother. She's the real expert and I think you'll be glad you met her. I think you two … will hit it off."

Jace stretched his neck, facing the ceiling. "I don't know. Seems like a waste of time. I've got a lot of other things going on right now. I just don't have the time."

"You think your baby mama can't do without you for another few hours a day?" Aline responded deprecatingly. "She seems pretty self sufficient to me."

"What the—," Jace began, outrage clear in his voice and his face.

"Calm down," Aline lifted her hands in a placating motion. "I had to check you out, so yeah, I know about her." She screwed her eyes at him, a curious look in them. "I'm assuming she is your baby mama. I mean you live together. You always have your hands on each other and … she's definitely carrying somebody's baby. Kinda young for all that but I'm gonna guess this was unplanned," she smirked at him. "You should work on that, by the way."

"What?" he almost snarled.

"Planning shit out," Aline explained. "I mean you're pretty good at it in class but you know, it's more important in real life."

"Stay away from her," Jace warned. "She doesn't need to be stressed out … about anything."

"Don't worry," Aline gave him a bland look. "I'm not a monster. And besides, why would I want to upset her? All I'm saying is I think she'd totally understand if you had … other long term goals."

"Is that what this training is for? Because I didn't get that impression. Not sure how I'd make a career out of learning how to kick butt better than I already do." Jace's eyes drifted to the clock above the professor's desk. "I've got to go. I have … plans."

"So, you're not running back to your baby mama?" Aline asked curiously.

"It's none of your business," Jace huffed, "and stop following me."

"Then meet my mother," Aline countered.

"Fine, but not today," Jace answered impatiently. "And after that, leave me alone. You know I like you. We're friends," he added quickly, "but I'm serious, I have other priorities. After I meet your mother and after I tell her I'm not interested, you will stop bugging me about all this.

"Alright, Jace," Aline said with a confident grin. "It's a deal."

* * *

He knew he was running late and he was annoyed. He had really wanted to give himself some extra time to get a hold of his jumbling nerves. He hadn't even wanted to see Grandmother again, not after coming to the damning conclusion she had connived to keep them apart. He still didn't entirely understand what his life was now. Sometimes he wondered if he had completely lost his mind and was now living in some made up fantasy world but whatever it was he knew he had changed irrevocably. There was no going back to his old life. Even if he wanted to explode from frustration with so much he still didn't know, not being able to give her everything he wanted to provide, seeing that wary look on her face after she mentioned or alluded to some part of their past and knowing despite her reassurances, it was important, it had mattered. He felt so Goddamn useless sometimes … but … it was all okay … at the end of the day, when he held her. She had to sleep turned away from him now that her protruding belly made it impossible to gather her close to him when they lay face to face. He wouldn't trade those precious hours with her back molded to his chest, his face buried in her hair, for any part of the lavish lifestyle and decadent surroundings that he had known before she entered his life.

But now he was here, briskly sliding through the aged wooden doors of the imposing but refined Restaurant de Nicola. It was his grandmother's favorite dining place for business meetings. He had been too glad that she had not asked him to meet her at the Manor to question her selection but now as he stood inside the dark entrance way, rich with mahogany and maroon décor, he couldn't help but wonder at her choice. Whatever this was, it shouldn't last long, he told himself. He was only keeping his promise to his angel. He knew better than to pin any hopes on a reconciliation with his Grandmother. He felt certain she had only agreed to meet him to punish him, crush his spirit, expound on all that she would take away from him, but she no longer held any power over him and he knew he could withstand her contemptuous remarks at his expense. He only feared what she would say … about her. He wanted some time alone to collect himself, steel himself from an explosive reaction to any scornful words she might direct at his love.

He froze, alarm and wonder mixed on his face. Had he just called her, his love? Yes, he hadn't said it out loud but he had never even permitted himself to think the words … but now … it just came so naturally and there really was no way he could camouflage the blatant adoration, his unmistakable … love. He had the immediate urge to turn around and leave, to head straight into her arms and announce this revelation to her.

"Mr. Herondale," a sleekly dressed black suited maître d' stood in front of him, a polite smile on his face. "This way, sir." He walked ahead of Jace and turned to make sure he was following.

Jace plowed ahead. He would see his beloved soon enough and he could tell her he met his grandmother, just as she asked of him, that he would do anything for her, no matter what it was or how much it reviled him. He moved determinedly, allowing the host to lead him into a private room. The main dining area was only half filled. At a quarter past five, it was too early for the dinner crowd but the clientele was the typical, affluent, well heeled society. He knew the enclosed back room was Grandmother's preferred spot. She was conscious of prying ears. Still, he had hoped that the presence of other diners around them would keep them both on their best behavior.

He stepped into the room. It was spacious, usually reserved for private parties and could hold more than ten tables but now there was only one large round table in the middle of the room with a pot of tea and a tray of salmon and cucumber finger sandwiches.

Grandmother sat primly in a chair facing the doorway, sipping her tea. Her eyes slowly rose up leaving a glacial trail up his body to his face. He stood there, only a few feet away from the doorway. It was as if her stare froze him to the spot. The maître d' pulled out a chair for him.

"Is there anything else I can get for you? Shall I send in your waiter?" he asked smoothly, his eyes darting between Grandmother and Jace, no hint that he registered the frigid tension in the air.

"Would you like to order something, Jace?" she said in her usual cool and measured voice, her icy blue eyes never wavering off him.

"No," Jace answered, then turned his gaze to the host. "Just a glass of water, please."

The man lightly dipped his head. "Very well, Sir, Madame," and he walked out of the room.

"Why don't you take a seat?" his grandmother asked, "or have you lost all semblance of propriety and manners?" Her tone was easy and light but he could hear the sharp edge to her words.

He strode over to the seat pulled out by the maître d' and sat. "Hello, Grandmother."

Madame Herondale narrowed her eyes shrewdly and shifted her position a little, folding her hands together on the table. "You've been busy," she remarked.

"Yes," he answered with no inflection.

"So, why did you want to meet me?" she sat back a little. Her face remained impassive but he thought a flash of … something pass through her eyes before they grew blank again.

"I didn't," he stated. His shoulders tightened. This isn't what she wanted. He knew that. He exhaled a long breath and forced himself to relax … or pretend to relax. "Clary … she wanted me to see you. She wants me to try … to be a family … with you … included." He almost choked out the last few words but he got it out.

He watched her stony face heat up. There was no color to her pallid cheeks but he could see the flare in her eyes.

"I see," she said. "I wonder why she would want that." Madame Herondale lifted her teacup to her lips and took a sip. "You must know by now I wanted to keep you two apart. I didn't want you to see her ever again. I arranged a marriage for you, a most eligible and desirable match with a beautiful young lady, an heiress to a fortune marginally less than your own inheritance, but attached to a noble title, a family name that would have added to the glory of your own house." There was a biting tone to her voice but her face remained smooth and expressionless. "Instead, you're here with her … and what are your prospects now? Some narrow, middle class life at best? Already a child on the way. Is it even yours?" She said all of this without the judgmental, sneering tone he would have expected and this threw him off a bit.

He lifted his head and involuntarily made a quick nodding motion. It was time to end this. "I think you already know the answer. I will take care of my family and if you don't want to be a part of it, that's your choice. I don't want your money. It doesn't matter if we live in a hovel. I have everything I need … with her." He pushed his chair back, readying to stand and leave.

"But," Madame Herondale stopped him with the resolute certainty in her voice, "is that what she wants? Maybe you, without the money, is not what she bargained for," and now he heard the cold sneer. In it, he could hear a relentless replay of the mantra, 'they all want your money, that's all they ever want,' that she recited to him repeatedly since he was five and old enough to know not to question her.

"No," he answered hastily. "She's not like that. You don't know her."

"Not like you know her," Madame Herondale returned with an icy calm, "of course. You've been so intimately acquainted for … all of two months? Certainly not more than three, since the last time I saw you, you had no idea who she was and you couldn't care less."

He knew it was a bad idea. There was no point to arguing with her but he couldn't stop himself. "How do you know that? Maybe I've got my memories back. Maybe I remember everything."

Madame Herondale assessed him with cold, calculating eyes. "I truly doubt that." She daintily picked up a sandwich with a napkin and nibbled at the edges. "You're very vulnerable. More vulnerable than I've ever seen you. There's something very … weak … about you now. I suppose I can easily guess why."

His brows knit. He had no idea where she was going with this and suddenly he knew he wanted nothing more to do with her. "I'm leaving now, Grandmother. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you find happiness." He placed both hands on his knees, readying to depart.

"I'm not done," she answered. Her voice was iron now. Her eyes flashed furiously. "Do you have any idea how you've embarrassed me. It was no easy feat to manage the betrothal with the Hallorans. They had definite reservations against engaging their only child to a commoner, an American, despite all our wealth, they have a very strict code concerning who is deserving enough to merge his gene pool with their own exalted and venerable ancestry. And after they finally agreed to the union, you disappear, completely cut them out as if they were nothing, as if my will meant nothing."

Her hands flattened against the table. She lowered her eyes and she took a few deep breaths before leveling them back on him. He had nothing to say. He would let her get it out and then leave as he planned. Her words could not affect him. He figured he should let her air her grievances. He could do that for her.

"You are a very young man," she continued calmly. "I can make allowances for that. I understand young men can be very passionate. I believed you had been well trained to see such passion was futile and meaningless but I suppose you are still just a man, and liable to the weaknesses of men." She patted at her silver coif. "If you insist on remaining with … her … you will absolutely regret it. I can assure you, she will never … be safe."

Jace stiffened all over. "What do you mean by that? Why, how would she be 'unsafe'?"

"She will never bear your child," Madame Herondale stated simply. "She will not live to bear any children."

"Are you threatening her?" he spoke so roughly he didn't recognize his own voice. His hands gripped down on his own legs. He wasn't sure if he had any control to prevent himself from reaching out and strangling his own grandmother.

Madame Herondale looked at him sympathetically. "I'm trying to help you. Who knows better than you and I, the curse that falls on anyone a Herondale loves. We can't love. We can't allow ourselves to be that selfish. Do you understand me?"

Jace felt as if he were breaking apart. "What … what are you saying?" he rasped out.

"She'll have everything she needs. She can raise her child. They will want for nothing. She will have the best care, the best help," his grandmother answered softly, "but you … must stay away. You must live away from them. You must learn to live without love … like me."

He trembled. "I … I … can't. I can't live … without …"

"Yes, you can," she answered coldly.

"I … don't … believe … you," he whispered, fighting with himself to stop the shaking. "I'm not a child anymore. I don't believe your lies." He staggered up and turned away from her.

He didn't know how he moved but somehow he got out of there. He wasn't sure if she said anything else to him. He was outside, gulping down the cold, wet air around him. He had to get back home. He would be okay as soon as he saw her again and he could hold her and he would know again that their love was everything. He felt as if he were choking on the doubt and fear that had lodged into his heart. It was a thick black suffocating mass crawling through this chest and up his throat. He had to get back home.


	37. Chapter 37 Broken

She trundled through the street, bundled up in a winter coat and cashmere scarf she did not believe she needed. She was already carrying her own little furnace for Pete's sake but Jace would not let her leave the house without it. The sun was setting and she stopped to take in the winter horizon, the fuzed orange pink purple hues of the sky surrounding the dipping sun. It was a dazzling view and had her momentarily lost in wonder.

She sighed. It was getting harder every day to haul herself into school. The snide looks from some students were bad enough but now she was hearing it from the teachers … the counselors … the principal and assistant principals. Why did she keep coming into school? She must be tired. Wouldn't she be more comfortable with a home study program? She had to know she was becoming a distraction for the other students. Their initial concern had transformed into a general exasperation. They could not force her to stay out of school until she reached her eighth month. She had no doubt they would insist when the time came.

In the meantime she would carry on as if nothing had changed, as if she was still on the cusp of young adulthood. She knew she was stubbornly and quite likely, idiotically, holding onto something. But what was it? Perhaps it was the last vestiges of her childhood. Soon she would have her own child to care for and she would have to scrub away at all of the impetuous, blind, selfish, stupidity of teenage youth. She was afraid of where her mind would go, shut in at home, without the noise and exuberant life from the crowds at school. She usually had less than half an hour to herself, what with almost eight hours at school and then another hour or two with Izzy and/or Simon before Jace returned to her. But Jace would be later today. He was finally meeting his grandmother and she didn't expect him to return for at least another hour, plenty of time to get her going, to have her wondering what was she doing and what was she doing to him?

She had no doubts they were meant for each other. Even though she'd only ever been with Jace, she knew it couldn't get any better than what they had. It was more than their physical connection although that in itself was more than enough to want to spend every moment together. They didn't have to speak to know each other. She remembered how it was in the beginning, when their eyes could delve into the other's soul and say so much.

It was still there … except now she could feel a swirling confusion, a growing anxiety within him. This new disturbing vibe wasn't always there. There were enough moments when it felt as if they were safely cocooned in a blanket of love and harmony that she knew they belonged together, that this wasn't something she was forcing on him. But now even when they were alone sometimes she could feel waves of panic rolling off him and when she searched into his luminous golden eyes, she could see them dull, that he was walling off a part of himself from her. She knew he wanted to protect her. He said as much when he ludicrously suggested that he should return to high school for her Senior Year but she also knew it was not getting any easier for him to accept his memory loss and this new life thrust upon him.

He had accompanied her to most of the check-ups with her OB and she couldn't help but notice that while she tended to get all wide eyed and drippy over the sound of their baby's heartbeat, the sonogram and amazing ultrasound pics, Jace appeared both uncomfortable and astounded. He wouldn't look at the images long when she persuaded him to look and seemed oblivious when she suggested baby names. She had no intention of bringing up marriage. She refused to push him into it as her Aunt Hodge urged her to do, not until he was ready but she couldn't help wondering why he hadn't brought it up. After all, he had proposed to her before the accident, before there was the added weight of a child to consider. She struggled with herself. Should she tell him about the ring he had already given her? Should she tell him what happened the last time she saw him before his accident? She wanted to but then she was afraid of how he would take it. She wanted to explain everything but then she worried it would trigger the anger that led him to storm off in the first place and ended with such disastrous results. She still didn't fully understand why he got so mad since she told him how much she loved him and that she just didn't feel they were ready for marriage yet.

She felt a familiar constriction in her chest. Oh God, why? Why was this still happening? These thoughts of marriage, engagements, inevitably brought Sebastian to mind. She had seen him once, after she and Jace returned from their Westerley escape from reality. That's what it seemed like now that some time had passed and there was some distance from those two blissful weeks. It had been a dream, one she longed to return to, when everything felt so right with Jace. But it was the image of Sebastian that brought a squeezing pain to her heart.

She was back at school and had been called to the main office. None of the general populace were aware of her pregnancy at that time. She could still cover it up with oversized sweaters and sweatshirts but it was obvious to her and she self consciously picked at her hem, worrying there would be some interrogation by school administrators. Instead she found Sebastian waiting for her.

The way he looked at her! Like he was starving and she was his only sustenance. God, she was so melodramatic but that was truly what it felt like. And then he grabbed her and hugged her so hard, like he was never letting go.

The school secretary eyed them curiously and he whispered in her ear, "Please, come outside, talk to me."

She nodded automatically. She didn't know how else to answer him … and she realized … she missed him. She also realized her own arms had found their way around his waist and she was on the verge of tears. She was happy to see him, happy he hadn't abandoned her and then it struck her … what this meant and what she had to do.

He clutched her hand and led her out a side exit. He turned to face her then, never letting go of her hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

She looked closely at him. He had changed. There was no trace of the arrogant confidence that had once been all she could see when she looked at his obnoxiously handsome face. Over the past few months, when she believed Jace rejected her and Sebastian was her lifeline, the one who kept her from falling apart, his visage had been dominated by a burning desire and an intense affection but now what she saw broke her heart because he was broken. She could not pretend she didn't see it. He was hurting and she was the cause. But still … still his first concern was for her.

"You should have told me," she said softly.

There was no anger, no accusation, just a knowledge that if she had known they wouldn't be here now, both of them hurting for the other, him because she could not be his and her because she loved him, but not enough. Not like Jace, no one could be what Jace was to her but … she loved him. He had mended her when she was just broken pieces and gave her so much of himself. His love propped her up and gave her strength to carry on so that she could envision a life without Jace.

"I couldn't," he answered, pain etched on his face. "He didn't remember you. He was already … dating … someone else," Sebastian clasped her hand in both of his, "and I knew I could make you happy. I would cherish you. You'd never have to question how I feel about you because I would tell you every day, with my words, my actions, every fiber of my being, that I love you, that I'll love you forever."

She squeezed her eyes shut. It hurt to hear this now. Only a little while ago it would have consoled her, maybe even thrilled her.

"Stop, Sebastian," her voice tremored. "You know this can't happen. You should have told me. I'm back with Jace now."

He squeezed her hand. "He'll let you down. That what he does. You must know that. Why can't you see I'm right for you? Why can't you see he'll never make you happy? Not the way I can."

She opened her eyes and peered up at him. "Why, Sebastian? Why are you saying these things? Why do you love me? _I'm_ not right for _you_. I'm having Jace's baby. I love him. You know this. Why are you still holding on?" She raised her hand to his cheek and caressed it softly. "We have to say goodbye."

Sebastian gave her an agonizing look but turned his face to kiss her hand. "I can't. I can't let you go. I want to but you haunt me. You're always there when I close my eyes, when I see something … hear something … beautiful. I don't know why. I just know I can't stop."

Tears sprung to her eyes. She shook her hand. "I'm sorry. I can't see you anymore. It will only hurt you." She dropped her hand from his face and tried to pull away but he kept her other hand firmly locked between his own two hands. She looked up at him pleadingly.

The way he looked down at her made her weak. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.

"I'll wait for you," he whispered. "I'll always wait for you."

She blinked up at him. "Please don't say that. I don't want that. You can't mean that."

He released her hand then and she scurried back, away from him.

Sebastian watched her, his black eyes glittering earnestly. "Don't be afraid of me, Clary," he said slowly. " _I_ ," he emphasized, "would never hurt you. I'd rather die than hurt you."

She backed further away and had her hand on the heavy steel door back into the school.

"Goodbye, Sebastian," she gulped. "We won't meet again."

He moved so quickly he was a blur. He was at her side and had his hands on her shoulders.

"If this is really goodbye, can I at least have one last kiss?" he beseeched.

She hesitated, a 'no' was already on her lips when he bent down and placed his lips against hers. His mouth moved over hers so tenderly, so entreatingly, and there was so much … behind it, a history of kisses that started so slow and soft and had gradually grown passionate and sensual with promises. She pushed him away. This was wrong. She couldn't meet his eyes. Her own were rapidly filling with tears and she almost fell running back to class.

She shook from the memory and her eyes adjusted back to the present moment, on Main Street, now facing a darkened sky, the sun had retreated and the street lamp cast a stark illumination on the paved walkway. Why had she come here? To escape her anxious thoughts, but of course, they followed wherever she went. She hadn't seen him again. That was almost two months ago and she still questioned how she could have made it better. He deserved better and she was sorry. He was wrong. He should have told her about Jace but he had been good to her … and she still missed him. The shops were open and there were more people out and about than only a short while ago. It must be around six now, she thought, the after work crowd. She kept her head down when a gust of wind blew across her face. Someone jostled into her, someone big and burly. She looked up, surprised. She was pretty hard to miss now a days. She was still short but had expanded considerably belly wise.

"Ow!" she cried out at a sharp prick at the back of her thigh.

What the hell was that? She moved her hand to rub the spot on her leg and she got a swift glance at the man who managed to cough out, "Excuse me," before he steamrolled past her. Odd. She hadn't gotten a good look at him but he was middle aged with short tufts of graying hair below the cap he wore low over his head. She turned back to get another look at him but he had already disappeared. She shrugged. She was making a big deal out of nothing. She took a few steps forward when her head suddenly felt heavy and the ground below her seemed to be quaking. A few more staggered steps had her beside a lamp post, her hands out and clutching it while her body leaned against it. What was happening?

And then a terrifying shooting pain coursed through her body. Her baby started kicking frantically inside her. He was an active little scamp and she often marveled at his impressive strength. She could tell he would be a force to be reckoned with, just like his father, but this was different. Something was terribly wrong. Another stabbing pain had her on her knees but she was so dizzy she couldn't even get her phone out or call out for help. God, please help me! Jace! Our baby! She was losing her grip on the post. She fell back and felt herself miraculously held up by strong familiar arms. Her eyes fluttered open.

"My … baby," she rasped out and a fleeting image of frightened black eyes was the last thing she saw before everything turned dark and life seemed to drain away.

* * *

He was seated in the waiting room and completely insensible. He was vaguely aware Clary's Aunt Hodge was seated somewhere to his left. She was as quiet and sat as immovable as himself but every now and then he could hear her exhale a long rattling sigh. He tried to clear his mind. He didn't want to think. He just wanted, he needed, to know she would be okay. He couldn't leave before he heard those words from a doctor and … maybe he could see her, just take a peek at her sleeping peacefully, and to know she wasn't in pain.

He had been watching her, following her surreptitiously for a month, around the time he realized he was hopelessly fucked. He had come to see her at the high school a few weeks after Jace came back. At first, when he had been unceremoniously tossed out of her home on Thanksgiving day, he had resolved to stay away. She would come back to him. She had to. But, he wasn't going to wallow around, beg her to see what was as clear as day, that he, Sebastian, was the only man who could truly take care of her, who wouldn't desert her, that he was her only hope for happiness. She would have to wake up and see Jace couldn't be the man she needed. Jace let her down over and over again and he didn't know his ass from his elbow. One good look at him was all it took for Sebastian to see that Jace was messed up. He was as confused as shit. Of course he wanted her. Sebastian understood that yearning all too well but the last thing Clary needed was this wild eyed, bewildered Jace.

Still, he was more than a little offended that she hadn't come to his side immediately after all Jace put her through and even though Jace was obviously an unstable wreck she was plainly transfixed by him. She had even dropped the engagement ring he had just put on her finger and turned away from him. He had never known such a searing pain before that moment and then he was livid. Fine, then. She'd learn the hard way and when she finally came crawling back to him he might not be around to take her back. He was done being her doormat, he told himself.

He was a man on a mission and determined to stay as far away from her as he could, start a new life without her. He went out, picked up a girl, a tall blonde who looked nothing like her, slept with her and felt absolutely nothing. It wasn't remotely satisfying and in the end he had to pretend he'd finished to get out of the dismal situation. He tried to tell himself it was just that he'd been out of the game too long. Somehow Clary had unmanned him and he tried to convince himself it was good he was through with her. He found another girl a few nights later. He went to a club and this time he selected one that looked like her, short, with long curly hair and green eyes. So what? It didn't mean anything. And this time he couldn't even get it up. He would look into her eyes, a pale replica of the shining emeralds that he longed to see, and he felt ill. He couldn't do it and then he knew. He knew he would never get over her. He knew he had to get her back.

So he went to see her at the school and … it hadn't gone as he hoped. But even as she pulled away from him and declared that it would be the last time they met, he knew he could not allow that. He knew he would wait for her. He knew he would follow her and watch and wait and he would be there when she needed him and then they would be together again. And he knew he was royally fucked over. It hurt every time he saw her but it hurt in a way that told him he was alive. It was better than lying to himself, pretending he could want another girl. That had made him feel like an empty, soulless husk, like he might as well be dead since he was only clinging to some illusion of life when all he wanted, the only real life he could ever have was with this small, flame haired girl, with recklessly bold green eyes that tore away at him in his nightly dreams. It was excruciating to see her but not allow her to see him, not be able to talk with her, not to feel the warm recognition in her eyes. He knew he loved her, of course, but he had not known how much he had grown to need her, how much he craved being close to her, basking in her proximity.

"What are you doing here?" Jace's voice was low but he could hear and feel the fury resonating off him.

Sebastian looked up and managed to shake off his clouded reflections with Jace standing only a few feet from him, tense, almost vibrating, fists clenched.

He felt his own anger rise up and he was about to get to his feet when Aunt Hodge rushed between them and rested her hands on Jace's chest. "Don't you dare start anything here," she said sternly. "And don't you blame this fellow. You should be thanking him. If he hadn't been there," she stopped, her eyes brimming with tears, "well, I don't want to think about where Clary would be now," she finished.

Jace's eyes widened and the rage transformed to fear with a blink. "What is it? What happened to her? Where is she?" he gasped.

Aunt Hodge moved her hands to his shoulders in a comforting gesture. "We still don't know yet, Jace, but it was bad. She … she was hemorrhaging. The doctors are with her now." Aunt Hodge suddenly brought her hands to her own chest as if to hold herself up.

An older man, a doctor, approached them. He was wearing surgical scrubs and observed them wearily.

Jace whirled around, seeing Aunt Hodge's eyes shift behind them and hearing the footsteps moving toward them.

"Are you -?" the doctor began.

"This is the baby's father," Aunt Hodge interjected, nodding at Jace, but her eyes stayed intent on the doctor. "Tell us, Doctor, please, how is she? And … the baby?"

"Clary," Jace heaved out as he stepped closer to the doctor.

"I'm Doctor Garroway," he said grimly, "We had to deliver the baby. He's strong but … only 30 weeks. There may be complications but we'll do everything we can. He's in NICU. Your-," the Doctor looked questioningly at Jace but proceeded when Jace only blanched, "the mother is not doing so well. We're having some difficulty diagnosing her malady. She's very weak. We don't know what happened to her and she is not … recovering."

Jace stumbled backwards.

"What do you mean?" Sebastian managed. "She'll be okay, won't she? Where is she? Can we see her?"

"She wants to see you, talk to you … while she still has the strength," Doctor Garroway looked directly at Jace. "She's been asking for the baby's father, Jace?"

"No!" Jace spit out almost violently, his face crumpling. He straightened, whirled around and rushed to the Exit. They could hear him running loudly down the stairs.

The three of them watched Jace bolt out. The doctor turned to Aunt Hodge and Sebastian, his expression aghast. "She's asking for him," he frowned at them.

"I'll go see her," Aunt Hodge said, levelling her shoulders. "Please take me to her."

"And me," Sebastian said hoarsely. "Please, I need to see her."

Doctor Garroway considered Sebastian. "Are you family?" he asked.

"Yes," Aunt Hodge answered and took Sebastian's arm.

Sebastian could feel her leaning heavily on him. He didn't know where he found the strength to hold her up much less himself. He wanted to crumble but he had to see her and he had to be there for her. They walked stiffly down the corridor, following the doctor's lead.


	38. Chapter 38 A New Chapter

He stormed into the parlor where she was seated, looking over the itinerary her assistant had just handed her to go over her weekly schedule. He was immediately followed by Ramsey and Miranda, the butler and head housekeeper she had recently employed to manage the manor's upkeep. The previous servants had been let go months ago when she had relocated to New York with every expectation of a more permanent residence in London. But he ruined those plans. He was immensely tiresome and she would have been excessively pleased if there was a way to do without him altogether but thanks to that last codicil her now deceased husband had deviously added to his will, she had no choice. Jace would inherit the controlling shares of the Herondale business in his twenty fifth year and all that she had built in over ten years since her miserable spouse had expired would be handed over to the ungrateful wretch. The business had easily grown tenfold under her stewardship and she had only recently learned her interests in the business were all in trust … for his benefit. When Jace turned eighteen, old Edgar Mitchell, the Herondale's long retained family lawyer, had requested a private meeting and divulged the contents of this codicil that Marcus had apparently intended to keep secret until the boy reached maturity.

Edgar had informed her it was now his duty to explain the codicil's contents to Jace. It was easy to dispose of Edgar before he could complete this mission but it turned out he had already set the necessary legal wheels spinning and had filed the motions to effect these final terms in court. There would be no way to prevent the transfer of control to Jace. She had a number of high priced lawyers attack it at every angle but in the end the best he could do was keep Jace unaware of his impending windfall.

Both Ramsey and Miranda attempted to run in front of Jace, possibly to block his unannounced entry with their own bodies but they were too stiffly polished from years of upper crust servitude to actually lay hands on him. Still, they were both red faced and panting from their exerting efforts. Her assistant, on the contrary, had no such fastidious compunctions and moved with an impressively efficient grace, swinging around Jace and grabbing him from behind to arrest his progression toward Madame Herondale. She was not in the least surprised since she had engaged Conrad's services fully aware of his combat training and military background but she feigned a gasp and lifted a manicured hand to her mouth. She artfully widened her eyes and took measure of her grandson. He was definitely unhinged, at the edge of uncontrolled oblivion from the look of his eyes and there was something else she had not expected on his face, something deep within his eyes that told her she had to act with extreme caution. It galled her but … he was dangerous. She could see it from the way the gold and amber fractured in his eyes and self-preservation was her foremost expertise.

"Jace, whatever is the matter?" she voiced with alarm.

She kept her eyes trained on him, pretending not to register the way Conrad struggled to hold onto the boy while Jace seemed entirely unaware of the man whose straining muscled arms locked around his shoulders and chest.

His face betrayed nothing. He was not flushed, nor did he breathe heavily. It was only his eyes that radiated a loss of reason and control. "Summon your doctors," Jace emitted in a low voice. "The best there is … like you said," he continued. "She's in trouble," his voice wavered unsteadily.

Madame Herondale mentally checked her own expression, the stance of her body and arms. She could give nothing away. "Tell me what happened," she said in an austere voice. She could tell he would not accept any warmth from her now. It would only arouse suspicion. It was evident in his franticly probing eyes. Jace flung an elbow backward and had Conrad on the floor, wheezing in pain. He glared at her for an interminably long stretch. It felt as if time stopped but then he lowered his gaze and sagged down.

"I don't know. She's at St. Michael's. The hacks at that hospital can't tell what's wrong with her. You said," he stopped and swallowed with difficulty. "You said she'd have the best care. She can't … she has to live," he finally expelled and collapsed against a wall, slumping down to the floor.

She nodded slowly. "I see," she frowned at him, taking in his prostate, decimated state. "So, you … understand what this means?" She kept her tone emotionless.

He closed his eyes and squeezed them shut. His hands curled into tight fists above his knees. "Yes," he rasped. "I understand."

"Very well," she replied in a cold voice. "I warned you," she said. "We'll make sure she recovers," she added almost soothingly. "She's better off …," she paused when he flinched as if she struck him. "She'll live."

Jace kept his eyes shut. "Please, please … help her," he begged.

"I will," she answered, "but you know it's meaningless if you … stay with her. You must end this."

Jace's head fell into his hands. "I know," he whispered.

* * *

It seemed like an army of men and women in white lab coats had suddenly descended around her. Everytime she opened her eyes, there were always three or four of them nearby, probing, staring at her, observing a plethora of beeping equipment and gadgets that arrived with them and surrounded her. She realized she was getting better when she recognized she was annoyed by their incessant attention.

"Where's Jace?" she managed to rattle out but nobody answered her.

She began to wonder if they could even hear her. Was she even here? Maybe she had died and for some reason her soul remained at the hospital, waiting, watching … for what? For Jace? For her baby? Her baby! Where was her baby? She knew he was no longer inside her. There was an emptiness, a stark absence in her womb. The cramped tightness around her midsection was gone. The movement of another soul, a person inside her, was gone … and she couldn't leave. She couldn't leave without him. If he was truly gone, she had to wait … here … for him. She was trapped here forever if he had departed without her.

These thoughts were too painful for her to dwell on so she concentrated on Jace. Where was he? She had to see him. Only he could bring any relief to her heavily weighted heart. She needed him desperately. And … if he wasn't here … what did it mean? Was he gone too? She welcomed the void of unconsciousness. But she couldn't hold onto it. Somehow, she was reviving. She wasn't dead. Under the ministrations of the twenty four hour team of physicians, nurses and God knew who else, they were … fixing her … and one day, she had no idea how much time had passed, she opened her eyes and she knew she was alive. She didn't bother saying anything to these strangers around her. She knew they wouldn't answer but then she turned her head and none of that mattered.

"Jace!" she tried to cry out but it sounded too airy, too weak. Still, she felt certain he could hear her by the way his body shifted in attention. He was seated on an armchair against the wall next to her bed. He looked exhausted, drained, like he hadn't slept in weeks. Peripherally, she noticed the people in the white hospital coats clearing out of the room, but he was all she could really see. He was slumped into the chair and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to be painted on. She ignored the way her muscles screamed and her body ached when she shifted toward him and reached out to touch him. She needed to feel him, to make sure he was real. She shoved away the questions that immediately rang in her head. Why hadn't she sensed his presence? Was there something … wrong? Was she just too weak? Was something inside her broken? Where was the constant hum that signaled their connection? She had never felt so alone than at this moment when she could see him but couldn't feel him in her chest, above her beating heart, the way she always had before. How was this possible?

She gulped down a cringing lump that had fear billowing all around her. Her fingers reached out for him. Why was she so weak? Why couldn't she reach him? Her eyes fixed on his, begging him to come to her. He only watched her impassively.

He exhaled long and slow and then pushed his chair away from her. He stood up shakily as if he was the one who was weak and frail. What happened to him? She watched him, her mind in a maelstrom. She needed answers.

"My baby?" her voice cracked and she was terrified he couldn't hear her. She couldn't even hear her own words register in her ears. She wanted to hit something but she knew she didn't have the strength for that either.

Jace had moved to the other side of the room but observed her … distantly. "He's alright. They had to … take him out prematurely but he's doing well. When you're sufficiently recovered you can see him," Jace told her. He sounded so … off. Was that even her Jace? He looked like him, a ragged beat up version but she couldn't feel him. It was as if he was an empty shell.

"What-what's wrong?" she stuttered. She feebly held her hand out for him but he stayed rooted to his spot, so far away. He seemed like an immovable, impenetrable statue standing at the other side of the room.

"You'll be alright," he said softly. "They said you'll get better, you'll be as healthy as you ever were." He sounded so strange, so removed.

"Why," she begged. "Why won't you come close to me? Why won't you touch me?"

He seemed to tremble for a split second before he stopped. She wondered if she only imagined it. "I can't stay," he said. His voice was so cold she thought her heart might freeze over.

"Where are you going?" she implored, the slight adrenaline rush that had kept her going was now draining away.

"You'll have everything you need," he said.

She watched him close his eyes. This all felt wrong. It felt like she might be dying.

"You … and your baby will never want for anything." He stepped toward the door.

"What are you saying? Where are you going?" She struggled to keep herself conscious. She had to stop this. Whatever it was, it was all wrong.

"You'll never be safe if I'm around," he spoke in an obviously shaking voice as he reached the door. "Just pretend I'm dead," he concluded as he opened the door and stepped through it. "Believe me," he managed to spit out. "I am dead in all the ways that matter," and then he was out the door and gone from sight.

She was too stunned and spent to say anything else and just stared at the spot where she had last seen him before he vanished. She stopped fighting the bleak darkness that surrounded her and let it carry her away.

* * *

She watched her baby through the clear encasement. He was getting bigger, stronger, but he was still so small and still had so many monitoring wires all over his tiny body. Watching him was a balm. It was her salvation. If they let her, she would stay here, staring at him all day. She hadn't named him yet. Somehow that alone seemed like an insurmountable task. He was so beautiful. He looked like the sweetest angel come to life with curling golden hair already framing his tiny face. She knew he'd change of course but everything about him was perfect, just miniaturized. She was so grateful when she could feel the pull between them that drew her to him. That had not abandoned her. He was alive. Being near him was enough.

Jace was always in the back of her mind. It was a gaping wound that refused to heal but it had only been three weeks since he left her and she had learned enough from their tumultuous history that she would not give up on him. She couldn't give up hope. He had to come back to her. He always did. Even when he forgot she existed. That had to mean something, that they were meant to be together and looking down at this perfect, beautiful boy that they created together … it was proof, wasn't it? How long could he deny that? Why did he leave? Could he truly blame himself for what happened to her? It was insane … but it felt like the truth. It felt like something Jace, with all his misgivings and ingrained horror over just the word, love, would latch onto. He had always been so afraid to admit his feelings for her and she knew it originated from his upbringing, his crazy stupid belief that his love was cursed. But she needed him so badly, every moment without him seared her heart and left it scarred.

"Clary, please, you have to lie down. You have to heal yourself … for your baby," Sebastian's voice was warm and sympathetic but stern. She felt his hands land gently on her shoulders and prod her away, back to her room.

She let him guide her away this time. There had been other times when she adamantly refused to leave her son, but she could see and she could feel that her baby was well and Sebastian was right, she needed to rest. She let herself lean into his arms. They grew tight around her, easily holding up her weight.

"You've got to eat," he said reprovingly, "you've lost too much weight." His grip remained firm and gentle.

"Where is Jonathan?" she asked as they slowly moved toward her room.

He had been hovering around her only a short while ago. She always needed to know where he was. Since she had somehow managed to explain that she did not expect Jace to return anytime soon, Jonathan had erupted in fury. She didn't doubt he meant it when he insisted he would track Jace down and tear him apart, limb by limb. There had been a great deal of weeping and begging on her part to keep Jonathan from running out in search of Jace and now it had become an ingrained habit for her to constantly keep tabs on Jonathan's whereabouts. She wasn't sure who she feared for more should Jonathan actually come face to face with Jace.

Sebastian's hand warmed her as it brushed soothingly up and down her arm. "I'm pretty sure he went to see the hospital administrators. I saw him heading into the office with your Aunt."

What?" Clary worriedly turned her face up to Sebastian's. In general, she tried not to look at him directly. There was too much between them. She didn't know how she felt about him or how she was supposed to treat him. She could never repay him for saving her baby's life … or her own life … and yet every time she tried to thank him, he looked at her so expectantly, like he wanted to hear her acknowledge his love, that he still wanted her and waited for her. How could she tell him he had to stop, especially now when she probably wouldn't even be breathing if not for him? And she felt incredibly confused around him. She didn't want him to leave. She wasn't sure what she would devolve into without him always near, always comforting her and bracing her physically and emotionally. "Why?"

Sebastian's black eyes widened and locked furtively into her gaze. They held her captive. "I don't know but you know how your brother is about you. He wants to take care of you. He doesn't want you worrying about any … details."

Hearing this explanation was painful. It reminded her that there was one person who did not want to take care of her, the one person she needed above anyone else. But he told her … they wouldn't have to worry about … money. Money, always money. She remembered how enraged he'd been, after he had proposed and jumped to the conclusion she didn't want to marry him once his grandmother had cast him away. She hated his money. She wished she didn't need any of it but … God only knew how much she had racked up in medical bills with her hospital stay and her poor little baby … She felt herself growing numb and her eyelids fluttered. She wasn't sure how long she could keep standing. She wanted to walk into the administration office and handle this herself. She hated feeling so weak, so helpless. She had the dizzying sensation of being swept off her feet. Sebastian had scooped her up into his arms and carried her into her room.

"You'll tell me," she whispered weakly, "I need to know … if there's … a problem."

"I promise, you'll never have to worry about anything as long as I'm around," he answered calmly, "and I'll always be here for you, whether you want me or not."

* * *

It was the first time Alex had seen him in months and she fully intended to read him the riot act. They had kept in touch sparingly through texts and voicemail. She hadn't been able to get him in a live conversation since Clary had their baby and she was ready to slap some sense into him. She didn't know what drove him away but she knew this was the biggest mistake he could ever make. The fact that he couldn't see it boggled her mind.

But when she finally laid eyes on him, she didn't know who she was looking at. There were traces of the boy she had known, the friend that she trusted and loved but that was it. Physically, he looked stronger than she had ever seen him and that was saying something. He had always been toned like a professional athlete and took excellent care of his body but now he was all solid muscle. There wasn't an ounce of loose flesh detectable anywhere on him. Even his hair was buzzed short. The loose curls that had once softened the sharp angles, the square jaw, were gone. But his eyes, the set of his mouth, the grim outline of his face were the hardest things that marked his new appearance.

"What happened to you?" she asked. It was the only thing that popped in her head.

Jace was seated at a desk. He had texted her a room at a local inn and she agreed to meet him there. "I'm leaving the country," he replied.

"Where are you going?" she asked, stunned and dazed by this stranger before her.

"I can't tell you that," he regarded with cool, detached, amber eyes. "I've joined a covert special ops force. I know how that must sound."

She expected to see the easy smirk on his face that would inform her he was joking but it was smooth and blank.

"That's all I can tell you. It's a new chapter in my life and I'm good at it. I don't expect to be back in the States for a while, at least a year," he concluded.

Her mouth opened and closed, at a loss for what to say. "Why did you ask me here?"

Jace leveled an icy gaze on her. It made her want to turn around and leave. This was not the person she knew and that made sense, she supposed. The Jace she knew would never have abandoned Clary and their child. He could never have cut her out of his life this way.

"Tell me about her and her baby. They're well?" he asked almost casually.

"Do you care?" Alex responded in a muted voice.

"They have everything they need?" he questioned in a monotone, ignoring her own question. "They have the house, a staff to take care of them? Do they need anything else?" He made these inquiries in a brusque, expectant manner.

Alex frowned, puzzled by his questions. There was no emotion in his manner but why ask if he didn't care? "They're both doing well. They've left the hospital. She wouldn't take the house, refused to even step into it but she has accepted the nurse for the baby … and she knows you've settled all the medical bills. She's grateful for that."

He turned his face abruptly to the floor. She couldn't see what he was hiding but his body had tensed. His entire form seemed to be made of stone but it gradually relaxed. "So, they live with her Aunt?"

"No," Alex muttered low. "They live with Sebastian. He bought a home for them. It's a nice place. Not like what you got her, but, she seems to like it."

Jace didn't make a sound. She wasn't sure if he was even breathing. Finally he moved, exhaling a long breath. His face was still turned down. "She lives … with Sebastian … with … her baby."

Alex watched him astounded. Was he some kind of robot? He didn't seem like a real person. He made this comment as if he were processing news like a computer. She didn't think she could be any more surprised if he opened up his chest to reveal wires and gears.

"He takes good care of her. I used to think he was a dick but it's obvious. He loves her. More than anything, he loves her." Alex did not want to be cruel but she was curious if this would prompt a human reaction out of Jace.

Jace stilled. He had not revealed his face since she told him Clary would not take any of the ongoing help he provided except for the nurse for their child.

"And her?" he finally said in a deathly voice. "What does she feel for him? Are they together?"

Alex huffed out angrily. "What is wrong with you? I know you care. Stop trying to hide it. Believe it or not, I'm not privy to everything she feels. I don't think they're together … yet … but honestly, it's only a matter of time before … she lets you go and lets someone else into her heart. Someone who wants to be there. He's willing to do anything, be everything for her and I'm beginning to think she may be better off with him!"

She thought she had gotten through to him. She was actually glad to see him shake violently for a few seconds, the tight control he exercised evaporating, but then he looked up and she felt nothing but abject sorrow.

"I never said I didn't want to be there," he said. "But you're right. She's better off with him. I know you don't understand. I know she doesn't understand. I cannot allow myself to care for her or the baby. That would be the worst thing I could do to them." He returned to a taut, rigid pose on his seat. His face was a dull mask. "I've set up trust for both of them. Even if she won't take anything for herself, I imagine she would allow her son to have it." Jace held out a manila envelope to Alex. "Take it to her when you know she's ready. It has all the information she will need to access the accounts. Tell her I won't bother her again."

"Have you lost your mind?" Alex cried out. "I know you love her. Why are you doing this?"

"No," he said roughly. "I don't. I don't. It was a mistake."


	39. Chapter 39 Clearing

Five hundred thirty seven days was the first thought in his head when he opened his eyes and faced the dawning sky. He had enforced the discipline to quickly make note of the number that inevitably came to mind and shelve it back into the recesses. He couldn't think about what it meant or why it was always his first thought with each passing day. He grabbed his pills, two a day to numb away, and swallowed them back quickly. He wanted to wean off the damn things but he knew he couldn't. He still wasn't ready for that. Maybe in another five hundred thirty seven days, maybe then the pain would be manageable without the pills? Yes, it was still too soon. His body relaxed as the pills took effect and the welcome void washed over raw emotions. He knew he could get up now and function.

It was this place, he thought. That didn't help. He preferred it when he was on a team assignment and they were camped out in squalid war torn battle zones. A dank cave or a crumbling façade over their heads, the best they could hope for, and always the threat of danger; bullets, some suicidal demon who would rather take them all out than face another day in hell. Sometimes he didn't even need the pills in those conditions. There was no downtime that allowed him to ever be aware of anything but the constant threat around their heads. Although, even then, he could not stop counting the days when he watched the sunrise ... since the last time he'd seen her. Sometimes, he thought it would be better to die, to let the enemy win, to end his meaningless existence but something wouldn't let him do it. He reasoned it was his team, he couldn't let them down. It was more than just himself at stake, but now, as he rose from the bed in a four star hotel room, on a lone reconnaissance mission to uncover terrorist funding among the upper echelons of Paris society, no less, he still knew he couldn't just lie down and succumb to death. Reveal himself to the enemy and it would be simple to end it all. There would be no five hundred thirty eighth day to count. No more pills that temporarily dulled the strangling pain he had to face in the brief minutes before they worked their magic. As much as he wanted to surrender, he couldn't. Something far more powerful than his own will would not allow him to give up and when he tried to dig into it, tried to understand what it was, he was struck by such an overwhelming paralyzing agony that he never dared to prod at it again.

Aline and her mother were quite displeased about his medication. It was a weakness. It was their experience that drugs slowed down the senses and made a person vulnerable but Jace had proven time and time again that even if some part of himself was blunted by the chemicals, he was still quicker, stronger, more capable than anyone else ... and utterly fearless. They had not met anyone to rival his abilities and there was that one time, in the beginning, when they first discovered his prescribed pharmaceuticals and confiscated them. He had not argued. He was sufficiently dosed at the time and he managed to keep it together for three days before … he lost it. A flood of emotions had rampaged through him and he couldn't really remember what happened next. He blacked out. When his sight cleared, he was tightly bound to a foot wide reinforced iron pipe that ran the length of the vacated building where the team was holed up. It looked like a bomb went off around him. Everything was broken, in pieces. His body was drenched. It seemed he had been hosed down and ten teammates were clustered around him, all of them busted up but wound up tight, completely alert and poised to strike. But … they were all watching him … as if he was their foe, as if he was some berserk, rabid beast. After that, they let him keep his pills and even reminded him to take his daily dosage.

On group missions, someone always carried a backup supply even though everyone knew Jace took fastidious care to make sure he was well stocked on his own. The last thing he wanted was to allow access to the miserable deluge that the pills blocked. Now that the pills had taken effect and the frost settled around his heart, he could tell himself none of it mattered. She never mattered ... but she was safe, that was all he wanted. He hated that he still needed to know how she was, how was her child, was she happy? It was difficult to believe his own lies when his mind went down that path but … he still couldn't squelch his need to know.

Every month he received a letter from Alex. She was a good friend, a true friend. The last time he saw her, almost a year and a half ago, she tried to convince him to go back to Clary. It was impossible for them to understand. They loved him. They couldn't see the destruction that came when he reciprocated. Before he parted ways with Alex, he told her he would be travelling to far off, unknown places. He didn't even know where his new life would take him but it had been explained that he could receive correspondence. Nothing traceable, of course, so nothing digital, no emails, no cellphones, no social media. Old school letters sent to a post office box, picked up and funneled through a maze of addresses before reaching a safe port, still miles away from his actual base of operations, but he could be reached if only through a prolonged and excessively delayed route. Alex's letters were always dated at least a month before it reached him but she still wrote him faithfully once a month.

He was not permitted to send his own letters while he was out on missions and since he was always on a mission, he never wrote a letter. He couldn't help but wonder when Alex would finally tire of these one sided missives and despite his muffled emotions, he dreaded the day that would happen. Alex wrote about her own life adventures as a star college basketball player. She travelled across the country and dominated the court. She was still with Magnus. The way she described him made Jace regret he had never met this amazing creature who brought her so much joy, but he could imagine they wouldn't exactly be the most compatible pair what with the guy's preoccupation with glittering fashion and an uproarious nightlife. He found her chronicles amusing and almost wished he had full rein over his feelings when he read about her own daily life exploits. The dull haze over his senses made everything feel so far away but he couldn't risk reading her letters without the emotionally sedating influence of his medication. Alex always included some news about Clary. He was glad. He needed to know. He probably would have lost his mind long ago if not for the bit of news Alex provided. Even with the pills, it always hurt, like a jagged knife had been plunged into his chest and continued carving at the gaping wound where his heart used to reside. But he still had to know, had to hear the testimony that yes, she lived, her child lived, she was well.

Alex seemed to know he needed to see these words. She didn't go into much detail about Clary. It was almost eighteen months since Alex had told him Clary moved in with Sebastian. He had terrible scorching nightmares about her … and him. He knew he had no right to any claims over her when he left her, even if he only acted to preserve her life. He knew even if he could convince her of this truth, of his despicable fate and the doomed one she would be subject to if they were to stay together, she would still choose to be with him … because if he'd been given that choice there was no question he would rather live a minute in her embrace than a hundred years without her. But … what he could not do was allow her to make that choice … because the only thing that mattered was that she lived, that somewhere on this miserable Earth, she breathed.

He knew he was overly anxious. He was expecting to receive his monthly letter any moment now. He could usual count on its delivery by the seventh day each month at seven AM, but it was already the eighth day and a mere five minutes before the seventh hour this morning. There had been unexpected delays in the past but only on two other occasions when he was barricaded, under heavy fire. He had been at this upscale Parisian hotel for the last week. There was no obvious explanation for the delay.

He was dressed in a sleek dark blue suit, white shirt and tie, not the combat garb he had grown accustomed to and frankly felt more comfortable wearing after all this time. The suit was perfectly fitted to his frame but Jace preferred a roomier fit. The bulging muscles of his shoulders, biceps and thighs felt constricted by the tailored lines of the suit.

It was rare for him to be assigned to an espionage role. He was not a spy and had not trained to act out a role but someone above who called the shots apparently thought he could pull it off. Jace supposed his upbringing helped, allowing him to move among the privileged society with ease. He was fairly confident he had not aroused suspicion although he could not avoid unwanted attention. It was better to be an anonymous member of a faceless team, leaping into a melee, striking and subduing an enemy rapidly. But this mission had him lounging among the rich who were used to satisfying any fancy that crossed their path and he had been approached several times to satisfy the sexual urges of some spoiled thing. He deftly steered away these advances with the smooth charm he had cultivated over the years from his debutante escorting duties but it was harder than he expected. It became too glaring that there was only one person who could ever stir any desire within him again.

He stood up, restless. He had to finish this mission and get out of this place. There was too much time to think here and thinking inevitably assailed him with her image. Did he need to increase the dosage? The doctor warned him no more than three or four pills a day but he hated taking them. Still, it was a necessity. He knew he couldn't operate without them. He wanted to stop, to end his bleak existence but he couldn't ... because that … greater power, whatever it was, wouldn't let him. It controlled him.

Three firm raps on the door immediately drew his attention. He moved swiftly to the door.

"Who?" he called out.

"Open it," answered an authoritative and familiar female voice.

Jace was surprised but didn't hesitate to acquiesce to the command. He opened the door.

"Aline," he almost smiled but couldn't quite muster up to it. "What brings you here?"

She walked into the room and eyed the door, signaling he should close it.

He shut it and locked the door then moved further into the room, toward the couches in front of the large flatscreen, turning it on to provide some background cover noise. He turned to Aline, waiting for any further direction. He knew this was hardly a social call but it had been a while since he'd last seen her, about a year, when she told him she was the leaving the team. He realized he sort of missed her. She never intended to make a permanent career out of this work and really nobody did considering the constant danger surrounding the field duties. She put in six months and then headed off to finish college and an agency job, somewhere they analyzed the data collected from various operations and made the decisions on the next deployment. She had encouraged Jace to join her, but he refused. He'd taken this job to head face first to the only place he could belong to now, away from decent society, somewhere death and destruction was rampant and if he was lucky, perhaps he would find his end in the service of the greater good. He couldn't purposely remove himself from his cursed existence but he could try to save the world and in so doing, lose his own life to save innocents. The commanding force that would not allow him to jump off the nearest building could make that distinction and would allow him to pursue this journey fraught with danger but at the same time it forced him to remain vigilant and keenly alert to any peril, to protect himself to the best of his abilities. It was some fucked up shit.

Aline had been pleased when he sought her out, to tell her he wanted to join the camp. It seemed like a lifetime ago but it was less than two years when he met her mother and agreed to do whatever he could to serve his country as long as that meant leaving it. Aline had been puzzled by this demand but was too glad that Jace had changed his mind. She was convinced he would be a significant asset and she hadn't been wrong. But then, it hadn't taken long, a week, certainly not more than two, witnessing Jace's fervent need to learn everything, hone himself into the ultimate fighting machine, admittedly even better than herself although she would never actually say that out loud, but that was beside the point. The point was she had quickly surmised there was something very wrong with Jace. He was not the same person she had met and known in class. In fact he no longer bothered attending classes although Aline badgered him about completing his courses. He couldn't expect to get far outside combat missions without a college degree but he ignored her. It was clear he no longer cared about furthering his academic education. He had no life outside of relentless training as if he were only suitable for battle, as if he had no social needs or human feeling. Aline could not help but notice something must have gone wrong between him and his girlfriend. She had teased him about his pregnant redhead but she had known he adored that girl. When she saw them together, he watched her like there was nothing else in the world but her and yet he spent so much time in the training facilities, she knew it was not possible he could see her more than a few minutes a day, if at all.

Given his blank refusal to consider camp when he first learned of the time commitment involved, none of it made sense. She followed him again even though she knew he would be royally pissed if he found out but she wanted to test her own covert spying skills and she wanted to piece this puzzle together. She was only more confounded by what she witnessed. He no longer lived with his redhead. He lived alone in a cheap rental, no furniture, just a mattress in one small room. It was not her style to pry but she couldn't help herself and once asked him months after he began training, what gives with the baby mama? He responded with only a cold glare and there had been such a hallow emptiness in his stare, she had never been able to forget that look or the bleakness and despair she felt in response. It was then that she fully realized this Jace that had joined her quest to protect and serve their country was not the same person she had met and admired in their shared college classes.

He was still hot, though. And after a month on the field together, she had propositioned him on a rare down night for the team, a group of six elite expertly trained warriors. They made it a celebratory affair, a special occasion when they did not have to spend every minute expecting enemy fire and decided to get suitably drunk. He had been drinking hard, like the rest of them, but he never lost the rigid set of his shoulders or his constant watchful guard. She told him he needed to get laid and then suggested they could let off some steam together. Aline did not sleep around and she was beginning to think she might actually be more attracted to her own gender but she had a thing for blondes and she was more than willing to give it a try with Jace. She'd seen enough of his body within the close quarters that the team shared to spawn a few intriguingly lustful thoughts. Jace only shook his head in response and told her, "That shit doesn't work for me." Then turned and walked away.

Aline had been a bit stung by this rejection and kept her distance from him afterwards but couldn't squash a growing curiosity after that experience. She wanted to know what did 'work' for him since it clearly wasn't her and after many months had passed she surmised nothing worked for Jace. He had no intimate interactions with anyone, not as friends and certainly not as lovers. She wasn't sure why she was coming to him with this news. She had once considered him a friend but now he was at best, an ally. But … somehow she still cared for him and had a vague notion she owed him something and that what she had to say … might help him.

She handed him his letters. Jace took them from her with a puzzled expression on his face.

"I just flew here from Idris," she took a seat and watched Jace cautiously. "I spent some time there with someone you know."

For once, something, a real emotion, ran across Jace's face but it was too quick for her to read it.

"Oh?" he answered calmly.

"Yeah," Aline sat back and placed both hands firmly on her lap. "I have a distant cousin who lives there. We're not close … but he was getting married and I figured, what the hell, I have some time off, I miss our hometown and I've never disliked him. I could wish him well, enjoy an open bar. I went to his wedding."

Jace's frown deepened. He took a seat across from her.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm telling you this," Aline continued, answering the unspoken question on his face. "My cousin was marrying that redhead you used to have a thing for. Remember her?"

The sudden transformation on his face was stunning. The blank calm was immediately replaced by a seething anguish and then he shut his eyes. His face turned expressionless again. "I need my pills," he said hurriedly. "Please, can you get them for me? Bedside table," he finished.

Aline briefly wondered why he couldn't retrieve them himself but got up, found the bottle and placed it in his open hand. She watched him open it and pop two capsules quickly into his mouth, gulping them down.

"Your cousin, what's his name?" Jace asked after a few more silent and heavy minutes had passed. He kept his eyes shut and Aline thought she could feel the thunderous beating of his pulse.

"Sebastian," she answered. "Verlac. But there's more," she continued. "It was quite a scene, that wedding. You know we've seen a lot of crazy shit doing what we do but that wedding …" she shook her head from the memory of it.

Jace's eyes flew open. They were no longer blazing but the pills he had taken could not fully suppress whatever was going on inside him. "What's that supposed to mean? What happened? Is she okay?" he pressed.

"I don't know," Aline responded. She scrutinized him, taking note of every passing reaction she could read on his face and body. "She ran off. They were standing there, in front of the priest. Sebastian had just agreed to his vows and it was her turn to say 'I do' but instead she said 'I can't' and then ran away."

Jace said nothing. Aline had never seen anyone so still but there was obviously a great deal going on within him. There was a vibrancy in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time, not since the early days when they used to argue in class.

"What happened, then?" he asked. His eyes were bright and urgent.

"Well, Aunt Madeleine almost got into a knock down drag out fight with the redhead's Maid of Honor and Uncle Gabriel had to get in the middle of it. I'm pretty sure he got knocked around between the two of them. Oh, it was a mass uproar between his side and her side of the family and then –."

"What happened to Clary?" Jace cut her off anxiously.

Aline eyed him speculatively. "She left. She left Idris. Last I heard, she headed off to bright lights, big city, New York City."

"By herself?" Jace choked out.

"No, she took her kid," Alex replied. "I mean, your kid, right?"

"But," Jace blinked several times as if he was trying to see through a fog. "But not without someone else, someone who can take care of her, right? Her brother? Her Aunt Hodge? Isabelle? Simon?"

Aline frowned at him and crossed her arms. "Honestly, Jace, how the fuck would I know?"

Jace only stared at her, unspeaking and frozen.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you have to lay off those pills. I don't know how many you've taken but I can tell you've gotten to the point where you're definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed and you know damn well you can't go anywhere unless you're on your game."

There was nothing on his face but an expectant, distressed need.

"Tell me," Jace prompted in a low voice but Aline could tell he was on the edge.

Yes, there was a kind of madness spinning in those golden eyes and now she knew for certain what she suspected all along. He was a goddamn fool. He was still crazy about his redhead and for some inexplicable reason he stayed away from her, kept himself drugged up like a zombie to forget her but it obviously wasn't working and in the meantime he risked everything the team worked for … even if his impaired faculties were still better than what anyone else could contribute, he was still a selfish, reckless asshole as far as she was concerned.

"You have to get out of here," Aline affirmed sourly. "You have to go … to your Clary. She's in New York. With your training and connections, it shouldn't take you long to track her down. And there's something else you should know." Aline paused. She wasn't sure how he would react but he needed to know. "She's being tailed by some spook. I don't know who he is but I spotted him. He's good but not good enough to be invisible to me." She pulled out her phone and scrolled to the photos. "This is him." She handed it to Jace.

Jace grabbed the phone, his head turned down to examine the photo. She watched him enlarge the image and then the phone dropped to the floor. It was so grossly uncharacteristic for Jace to exhibit anything but a swift and deadly grace that Aline was too stunned to rebuke him for his clumsiness. She watched him silently. Shit, he was way worse than she thought.

"Jace-," she began.

"I know him," Jace said in a strange shaking voice.

Aline had grown used to a robotic Jace, someone who lacked the spirit and passion that had first drawn her to him but this Jace was not robotic at all. She was actually a little frightened by the intensity he exuded. Jace lifted his head to face her and she leaned away from him. He looked as if he might explode.

"That guy," he spit out, "that guy rammed his car into mine. He deliberately caused the accident and I –." The booming outrage on Jace's face suddenly cleared away. It was as if the brightest light of day shined through his wonder struck eyes. "I remember."


	40. Chapter 40 New York New Life

She watched them from the corner of her eye while she unpacked the groceries. She wasn't sure what she felt. It was such a hodge podge of conflicting emotions, it was impossible to define as one overriding sensation. They got along very well. They got each other's jokes and enjoyed many of the same things with similar tastes that spanned fine French cuisine to tackling roughshod through the packed city streets on their bikes and a confidence that verged on the obnoxious. Clary knew she was glad to see Sebastian happy even if she was not the source of this happiness. He deserved it after everything she put him through. She had seriously questioned his sanity when he insisted on coming with her to New York City. She had only just ditched him at the altar and she had accepted that would be the end for them.

She figured she would have to learn to manage all of life's daily foibles on her own. She was a single parent and she had to stop leaning on Sebastian as if he were her own personal security blanket. He had been a constant source of comfort, affection, attention since Jace had left her and with Sebastian at her side she had convinced Jonathan and her Aunt Hodge that they did not need to abandon their own livelihoods to support her. It was of course especially important to her that Jonathan return to Northwestern, pursue his own dreams. She could never forgive herself if she was the cause of derailing his bright future. But it wasn't like she could stop Sebastian from moving to New York and it seemed wrong to forbid him from visiting her and Christian once they settled in. Sebastian had been a part of her baby boy's life since he was born and there was a real bond between them.

She had even named Christian with the notion of paying some homage to Sebastian's own name. It had been over two months after Christian was delivered out of her womb and everyone seemed to feel it was terribly bad form to leave the baby unnamed. But really, she didn't have the foggiest clue what to name him. He was her sweet, perfect angel. She had even considered naming him Angel but Sebastian had warned her that a name like Angel would invite merciless teasing once the child grew older. She couldn't admit to them that she actually wanted to name him Jace but even she could see that would not be a good idea. He already looked so much like his father there was no need to give the child the added reminder of his name.

So the three of them had moved to Manhattan. She had been ready to fend for herself but Sebastian made that impossible. He did not try to interfere when she found a junior two bedroom apartment in Hell's Kitchen. It wasn't exactly what she envisioned but it was less than $2,000 a month (a steal) and while there were a few disheveled and clearly vagrant characters wandering around, there were also several new high rise developments that added an upscale and safer element to the neighborhood. She had to dip into the trust fund that Jace had left her and while she hadn't wanted to do it, she resolved to make her own way and repay the trust as soon as she was able. But first, she had to raise her son and then find a way to make money. In the meantime she kept their expenses to a minimum, always conscientious of her budget and how much she had to repay.

Except Sebastian was constantly coming over and with his daily visits, he brought everything he could imagine she and Christian could need. Always two armloads of groceries, diapers and wipes, even furniture. He was not nearly as warm and overtly affectionate to her her as he had been before their doomed nuptuals. Of course that was not a surprise but it was awkward and uncomfortable. She still loved him. He was a part of her, part of her family, but she knew she could not forget Jace and as long as that was true, she had to draw a clear line between them. She had let that line blur over the months without Jace, when Sebastian was always in front of her and became everything to her and her son. They lived together … as friends, the most devoted and trusted friend she could imagine and was so grateful to have, she told herself repeatedly, when she lay in bed at night, alone and so lonely for her golden god, her soul mate. And then one night, many months since she had last seen Jace, a year, four months and thirteen days to be exact, she had put Christian to bed and slowly drifted toward her own room. Sebastian appeared in front of her and held out a glass of champagne.

"It's our anniversary, a year since we moved in together. We can toast to that, can't we?" he said, a soft smile on his face.

She was tired and a little depressed. Lately she found herself imagining all the days ahead without Jace, all the moments Jace would miss in Christian's life. He had already missed their boy's first laugh, his first words, his first steps and she could not mistake how Christian trusted, clung to, loved Sebastian, another man who was not his father but might as well be. Plus, champagne was a weakness. She really enoyed the fizzy dry sweetness and Sebastian only got the best. She returned her own soft smile and took the glass from his hand. He took hold of her other hand and led her to the large window panes facing the garden and scenic view of Idris Mountains. The moon was low and full and cast a beautiful almost haunting light over the shadows of his face. When she looked into his dark eyes, they shimmered with a rainbow of iridescent colors and when he lowered his face to place a sweet and gentle kiss on her lips she stopped thinking of Jace. She let herself feel that moment without any memory of Jace to cast a cringing darkness over it and she let Sebastian make love to her.

He ended that one sweet, tender kiss, staring deep in her eyes and she guessed he must have seen the yes in them because he grabbed her immediately after and the next kiss was all fire, raging longing, his tongue deep in her mouth willing her to open herself up to him and she did. She wrapped her own arms around his wide steady shoulders and their bodies pressed so tight against each other, she was burning with want. That night was the first and last time they had each other, physically joining bodies. It had been … really, really good. He was a very skillful lover and even the first time he took her that night, so hurriedly, almost frantically, he made her come. They hadn't said a word to each other and she knew if they had tried to break the moment with words, the fog that hung heavily over their heads that night might well have broken. He drove into her emphatically that first time but it was just what she needed. He filled up the desperately empty, forsaken gulf inside her and he made her remember she was a woman, that she could feel these things again. It had been truly surprising, enlightening even, and she wanted to thank him afterwards. It hadn't taken long, just a few minutes of his impressive shaft lunging deep inside her before they were both shuddering with release but then before she could say the words that came to her lips, that it was a mistake, that she was sorry, he had his mouth back on hers and the second time was slow, gentle. It felt as if it time stopped and stretched over them. He had every nerve charged up with pleasure before he entered her again and again. They did not stop until well past dawn and when she heard the baby stirring, he was still inside her and pleaded with his eyes, no words were spoken, to let the nurse handle it, and she gave in.

Much later, she awoke with Sebastian all over her, asleep but tangled so thoroughly around her, making it impossible for her to slip away without waking him. But she had to get up. She had to check on her son. She had to wake up to reality so she gently pushed him off and of course he stirred and opened his eyes.

There was a remarkable difference in him when he gazed at her. It was as if he had all the answers to every question that ever came between them. He held her differently, as if she belonged to him and it felt … wrong … but so … nice. It was hard to know what to do but when he tried to pull her body beneath his own again and lined up over her to join their bodies once more, she was struck by the light and how unbearably clear everything was and she couldn't go through with it. For a few seconds, after she said no in a weak and fragile voice and he just lay on top of her, staring into her eyes, she realized if he wanted to he could physically overpower her. He was already positioned to enter and she could feel his large, stiff organ throbbing against her wet, willing opening. She knew if he only nudged himself in she might not even want him to stop but he rolled off her and let her go instead.

She found the strength to rise and remove herself. She wanted to apologize but she couldn't face him then. He left her alone for a week and when he came to her after several days of fleeting glances and a high strung nervous energy between them, the tension had calmed. She could almost pretend it had been a dream, that it didn't really happen but she could see too much now, beneath his clothing, the way the expensive fabric clung to his tightly toned body.

She had been seated and folding the baby's freshly laundered towels and onesies when he took a seat and moved it directly in front of her. Then he sat down facing her less than a foot away. It took a few minutes before she summoned the courage to meet his eyes. She was engulfed by his black eyes. They drew her into an infinite spiral of possibilities. His smooth ivory coloring was lightly flushed and he breathed out a lifetime of promises. He was beautiful. She couldn't remember all the words he used when he proposed. She could only recall when he said, "Marry me," it felt like salvation and so she answered, "Yes." It felt perfect for a brief sliver of time.

She had tried to ignore then bury her mounting reservations. After their engagement, Sebastian had tried to make love to her again but he didn't press her when she refused and then he seemed resolved to wait until after they were married. She worried he would want to talk about why she held back now since she didn't have a clue how to explain herself. Thankfully, he was not the 'hash it all out' type of guy. She didn't know why she couldn't give into it. Well, she knew why but she also knew life would be so much easier and make a hell of a lot more sense if she could just embrace her new life with Sebastian. It was not a long engagement and arranging weddings turned out to be a particular passion for Sebastian's mother. She took the helm with gusto and within three months of his proposal she was walking down a canopy of white silk and gorgeous cherry blossoms that dripped down around them as if they were actually in a massive grove of cherry trees.

She couldn't visualize much else about that day except the terrifying moment when the priest turned to her and his voice was like a death knell. Time slowed and his voice became warped and low. Her eyes flickered to Sebastian, who truly looked like a mythical prince, every hair in place, shining and haloed in the sun, but there was an overwhelming realization that slammed into her. She may never see Jace again but she would always belong to him and it was a gross travesty to pretend like she could commit to Sebastian in any real way. So she sputtered and scurried away. It was horrible. Sebastian's mother, who she was actually very fond of, despised her and who could blame her? Her family and friends tried to defend her but even they were baffled by her behavior. They seemed glad when she told them she was leaving Idris, moving to New York for a fresh start. By this time, they all knew she could live a lavish lifestyle from the accounts Jace left her. After Alex told her about the funds, she also deemed it necessary to inform all those closest to Clary, hoping they would use their influence to convince her to accept what he left her. They were not worried about how she would support herself and her child.

They offered to go with her and they were all unanimously agreed that a brand new start was exactly what she needed and she only had to call to have any of them join her for as long as she wanted but they had not seen much of her since she had been living with Sebastian and were not really expecting her to require their company. This was fine with Clary. She was eager to embark on an unknown adventure where no one knew her and maybe that would allow her to become a new person, someone not bound to so many past sorrows and regrets.

Except Sebastian followed her and she didn't have the heart to tell him he should stay away. How could she hurt him even more after already stomping all over his heart? But now … now … he was here, constantly around her and Christian and his mother, dear Madeleine Verlac, had found and sent a highly recommended nanny to help her. It was all too obvious helping Clary was not Mrs. Verlac's true motivation although Clary really could find no fault with Tracey's caretaking abilities.

Tracey was a very pleasant person who seemed to know everything imaginable about caring for toddlers even at her own youthful age. She was barely twenty one but she grew up with a horde of young cousins and her own two siblings were more than ten years her junior. She explained she practically raised all of them since her own mother was a single working woman and her cousins had often been left in her charge along with her little brothers. But of course, the most noticeable thing about Tracey was her striking resemblance to Clary herself. They were the same height, possessed green eyes and long curly red hair. The tint of Tracey's hair was a shade darker and the green of her eyes was more hazel than Clary's clear emeralds but they looked so much alike they were often mistaken for twins or at least sisters.

Sebastian had brought her to meet Clary seeing as how his mother arranged the introductions and he seemed quite dazed at Tracey's uncannily Clary like appearance but he laughed it off as a wild coincidence. Clary was only too aware that Madeleine Verlac had been very much opposed to Sebastian's continued interest in Clary's welfare. She had confronted Clary privately to demand that Clary withdraw her clutches from her poor, mistreated and unappreciated son. Clary had tried to explain that she expected nothing more from Sebastian, that she only wanted him to be happy, that she was sorry she could not be the woman he needed. She thought by the end of their tete a tete, Madeleine Verlac believed her, that she was not intentionally leading Sebastian on with misguided hopes. Clary could see the woman loved her son dearly even if she and her husband preferred a jet set lifestyle that usually had them enjoying extended stays at exotic locales far away from their only child. So, Clary understood when Tracey arrived, courtesy of Maman Verlac, she was really intended for Sebastian. And for his sake, Clary decided she had to give Tracey a chance. While she wasn't sure how she felt about what this implied regarding the depth of Sebastian's attachment to her, she thought she would be glad if Sebastian could find happiness with someone who could truly return his love.

It was now more than three months since Tracey came into their lives and Clary formed an admirable respect at how well Madeleine knew her son. Certainly, her physical appearance drew his fascinated attention at first but their personalities were also so well matched Clary wondered what he could be waiting for. Maybe he already made his move and just kept that side of their relationship hidden from her. Sebastian had always been so caring and considerate of her, she wouldn't be surprised if he worried how she might react to his dating someone new.

Sebastian and Tracey laughed easily together, both on the floor with Christian happily cooing between them.

"Mama," Christian gurgled.

Clary stretched her face towards him. Oh, thank God. She might just lose it if her own baby boy couldn't tell the difference between his mother and his practically identical nanny. Christian wobbly stood up with arms outstretched at her.

"Mama!" he proudly proclaimed holding up the colorful shapes that he fitted into a matching cutout board.

"Very nice, Christian!" Clary smiled with agreement, washed her hands, wiped them and quickly went over to him.

She crouched down in front of him and took the toy from his hands.

"Aren't you a clever little angel?" she folded him into her other arm and gave him a loud kiss on his soft, downy cheek.

She pulled back to look into her baby's perfect little face. His golden eyes held hers before he plopped down on the matted floor beneath him and started chewing on a block.

Clary lifted her eyes to take in Sebastian and Tracey. "Why don't you two go out? It's a really nice day for a bike ride," she suggested in a pleasant voice. "I've got things covered with Christian." She hoped Sebastian could only see her encouragement and acceptance of any relationship he formed with Tracey.

It was easier to look at Tracey so she let her gaze linger on her before moving onto Sebastian. As usual, Tracey did not meet Clary's eyes in Sebastian's presence. Clary always wondered how much Tracey knew about their history. What had Madeleine told her? What had Sebastian told her? When they first met, Tracey had reacted with her own double take before joking about how she heard everyone had a doppelganger somewhere. It was not long after, that it became obvious she had fallen for Sebastian. She lit up, her eyes shining and brimming with adoration, whenever he was near. It made Clary take a long look at him, imagining how Tracey must see him. Of course, he was gorgeous. She had always thought so, even when she couldn't stand him and it made her ill knowing how attractive she found him. But that was eons ago and there was so much more to him now. So much kindness, compassion, intelligence and stalwart support that she associated with him. There was no question any girl would be incredibly fortunate to gain his affection. So, as Sebastian and Tracey grew closer and it became plain to see how good they were together, Clary began to harbor a steadily rising … discomfort … about the two of them. What the hell was going on? She began to feel … God, what was it? Resentful? Jealous? She loathed the idea of it but honestly, things didn't get much more fucked up than this arrangement. She should tell them both to have a good life and get the hell out of hers but … but … she knew they both cared for Christian and she could swallow all the bitter pills in the world for her baby ... but still there was more to it. She didn't want to know Sebastian was with anyone else even though she knew she couldn't belong to him. God, she should never have let him follow her here. It was a stupid mistake. All of it!

Clary finally turned to Sebastian, willing herself to display only a calm, peaceful demeanor. It was more than a little disconcerting to turn her eyes to him only to feel completely bare and pinned down by his own intensely onyx gaze. He usually did not stare at her so directly but every now and then it would happen and she could feel a maddening flutter through her belly with a curling reminder of how well they had fit together that one night.

"That would be great." Tracey turned her face to Sebastian, watching him hopefully. "If Sebastian's up for it."

Sebastian did not seem to notice Tracey as his eyes stayed fixed on Clary. "Actually, Tracey, could you take Christian for a stroll. I think he could use some fresh air."

Clary had never heard Sebastian speak to Tracey this way. It was certainly friendly enough but his tone was different, like he was speaking to … the help. Clary could not withdraw her eyes from his almost hypnotic stare but she could tell Tracey was hurt, that she also heard the difference in the way he spoke to her.

"Of course," she replied quietly and got up. "We should be back in an hour," she called out as she rolled the stroller out with Christian giggling excitedly.

Clary nodded stiffly. By this time she had managed to put some distance between herself and Sebastian and had been able to break their gaze as she made sure the baby was fresh, dressed and suitably packed for his stroll.

"You have your keys, right?" Sebastian asked. He still sounded off but Clary was afraid to examine him closely. "We might be out for a while."

Well, this was news. She had never been away from her baby longer than an hour since they lived in this apartment. She wouldn't question him in front of Tracey but she felt as surprised as Tracey appeared at that moment.

"Sure, I mean, I'll go grab them," Tracey answered, her voice trembling a little.

When the door closed behind Tracey and Christian a few minutes later, they both stood staring at the door, several feet away from each other. She wrestled with her nerves and commanded herself to stay calm. It was oppressively quiet with only the two of them here, alone.

Sebastian slowly turned to face her, then walked over to her. She involuntarily moved backwards until she knocked against the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. She was still leaning against it when he reached her. He stood so close to her, looming above her and keeping her imprisoned in his gaze once again.

"I'm taking you now. I am burying myself inside you. It's going to be quick but then after we're done we're going to my place and then it won't be quick. Do you understand?" His voice was thick and heated.

She thought she might combust right there on the spot. She couldn't do this. It was all wrong, wasn't it? She couldn't give him what he needed. "I-I think ... It's not a good idea." She sounded so weak, uncertain and she could tell she was doing nothing to dissuade him. She forced herself to concentrate and mustered some strength behind her next few words. "It was a disaster the last time. I don't want to hurt you again and that's the only place this will lead to. You-you should, you should be with Tracey. She thinks the world of you. I know you like her, I know you're attracted to her."

The resolve on Sebastian's face did not waver. He leaned into her even further, another inch and he would be inhabiting the same space with her. "Are you really that deluded? Do you honestly think I could ever let you go? That I could want anyone else after ... you? I know you felt it. It was incredible, what we have when we're together, you can't just ... stop."

"But-but Tracey -," Clary gulped.

"Is a nice girl, a great nanny, beautiful of course, but can't hold a candle to you," he finished.

"She looks exactly like me and she's better for you, way better than I ever could be," Clary grasped desperately. She could feel her body react to his nearness. She was already wet imagining him inside her, remembering how good he made her feel. But it wasn't enough because he wasn't Jace.

A pained look appeared on his face, as if he could read her thoughts. "I don't care," he whispered. "Just let me have this moment. Just let me have whatever you can give me."

"I-I-," Clary foundered, so confused. She wanted to feel him, all of him, all over her, inside her ... but it ... was it wrong? When Jace didn't want her anymore, as much as she loved him, still loved him, couldn't stop loving him, if he didn't want her was she still bound to him? "I still love Jace," she finally said. At the very least that had to be absolutely clear between them.

Sebastian nodded. "I understand, it's like how I feel about you. I can't stop wanting you, loving you." He pleaded with her then. His entire soul pleaded with her. She could feel it's desperate pull. "Please, I can tell you want me and I'm here, I'll always be here, I'll always want you."

There was only a slight tinge of fear when she relented and they came together ravenously. She knew it was going to be good, the way her body fired up beneath his touch.


	41. Chapter 41 Hunting

Jace wanted to rush to her as soon as he discovered her whereabouts but he had to restrain himself. He had to catch that sabotaging criminal and he had to find out why he was following Clary. He still couldn't entirely rid himself of the anxiety, the ever present fear that his presence in her life would hurt her … and their baby … but he couldn't stay away, not anymore. He remembered everything they had gone through, just so much bullshit, and all because of his stupid psychotic fear of acknowledging what he could never escape. He'd never even met their son. As long as he could pretend their baby didn't really exist, he thought he could protect their child … but it was no good. He couldn't suppress the growing longing to see their son, to be a part of what he created with the love of his life, the only love he would ever have and it was frightening to know he already loved this person that he'd never even met, simply because it came from her and him, together.

It took too long to wrap things up and extricate himself from the Paris mission. Fortunately, Aline helped him. She was already way on the inside track with the Agency, even if she was still finishing up her college degree. She knew all the right people but she was also a perfect fit for the institution. They would be fools to let her considerable talents go to waste. Unfortunately, Aline had to stay in Paris to ensure their directives were accomplished.

She agreed to personally oversee it which was a shame because Jace could have really used her help right now. Aline was the best at uncovering undercover shit. Jace was the best at sweeping in and cleaning house, full on attack mode. He had not detected hide nor tail of the spook and he had been on constant surveillance for the last two weeks now. He hadn't slept for the first three days since he found her and then found a suitable place to lay low and watch, just watch. He was fighting with himself every minute to keep himself put, not to launch himself at her every time she made an appearance. It was both the keenest joy and an agonizing pain to see her yet stay away.

She was as beautiful as ever. If it were possible, more so, but he clearly remembered there was nothing lovelier than her and so he came to the conclusion it was just the renewed sight of her that made every feature so incomprehensibly perfect it bled into her surroundings. Everything around her seemed to vibrate with light, the colors brighter, richer, even the grays and blacks became a shimmering amalgam of every color in the world.

God, it would have really helped to have Aline around. Knowing her, she probably would have found this guy within twenty four hours and she had been eager to help after he explained how he knew him. It was a disjointed explanation at best since he first had to describe his history, the one she hadn't known, about the accident, his upbringing, his grandmother, his issues with love and trust and fate. Aline agreed he had to catch the spy and find out the truth. Why had he crashed into Jace's car and why was he following Clary? Aline knew he had no ties to his past, or rather no ties with his one remaining relative, his grandmother, and while Jace voiced his meandering thoughts, she regarded him with a careful concern. Who would do this to him? His restored memories now gave him the knowledge that there had been a terrible breach with his grandmother when he left Harvard but would she really send someone to wreck his life over that? He had accepted she would cut him off. All she ever cared about was the fortune. He could not believe she would send this guy to punish him for choosing Clary over sharing the Herondale wealth with her. It was all hers now, so what did it mean? What was going on?

Did his grandmother send this nut job to hurt him? Did she really hate him so much that she would rather see him dead than with Clary? He had never felt love from her but hate? She seemed so caring during his convalescence. Why had she been so diligently concerned about his recovery, obtaining the best physicians to patch him back up if she despised him, if she was responsible for his injuries? She had always wanted him to excel at everything. It was important to her that he presented a model of Herondale perfection, adding honor and accolades to their name. He did not believe she truly cared for him but neither did he believe she wanted to harm him. But ... who else had the means or the motive, for that matter, to arrange this? Even Sebastian, as much as Jace detested him and was fully aware Sebastian shared the sentiment toward Jace as well, even Sebastian was not capable of something so viciously evil.

So was this just some random weirdo, acting on his own, with some imagined vendetta against Jace? That didn't make any sense either. He knew he gained some unwanted attention as the Herondale heir but he couldn't recall anyone outside of the small money rich enclave to ever recognize him prior to any introductions. Most people were not aware of who he was and where he came from and that was just fine with him. He didn't have a twitter, Instagram or even a facebook account that some people obsessed over and might invite potential stalkers. It was all just … bewildering.

Aline tried to be comforting in her own stiff and awkward way and her offer to help him catch this fiend was the best solace she could provide but he still hadn't heard from her in the three weeks since he flew out to New York. And that was a bummer. More so because he thought it would have also helped having her around as a sounding board to get his head straight about Clary. It wasn't as if he hadn't known Clary was everything he could ever want even before his memories returned. But it had all felt like some dream, something that he imagined into life. He would look at her and feel so much and it was … insane. It was just insane to feel like you couldn't live, you couldn't breathe without this person you didn't know, never met before in your life, no idea what were her hobbies and interests, what did she do in her spare time, what did she like to eat, what was her life's dreams, it could go on and on.

It didn't dampen the need, it was overpowering, to be with her, hold her and that was usually enough. When she was next to him, in his arms, he didn't need answers to the countless questions. Sometimes he would try to randomly insert some of these questions rattling inside his head into their time together but it didn't feel so important when she was there. It just felt right and he didn't want to worry her. But she couldn't be with him all the time and when she wasn't, it was a complete mind fuck. And then to know and accept they were having a child together, conceived some time in his mysterious past, it was stupefying.

But now, he knew. He had all those answers that had been driving him mad and he could look closely at those crazy, exhilarating months together, when she never seemed real. He'd wake up every day convinced it had all been a wildly pointless dream he made up since he knew, he had always known, it was impossible for him to form any real attachment to another human being. He had careened from one emotional extreme to another and he'd acted like a damned fool. Of course he put her through enough shit before the accident, before he could admit he loved her. And then he forgot everything they went through and put her through the same shit all over again but this time with the added burden of carrying their child.

When his memories came back, it was like the world started spinning in hyperspeed and then it just as abruptly stopped. Everything was back to normal but normal in a way he had never dreamed or imagined. Everything was so clear and so blankly obvious … who he was, what he was meant for, what he had to do. His first impulse was to rush back to Clary, there was no hesitation, none of the strangling fear he would be her destruction because … because they had already been through so much and there was no question, if fate truly decreed the death of anyone he loved then she was doomed a long time ago, from the first moment they met, and keeping away from her would do nothing to change that. There was no denying what he felt for her. Certainly there was no way to hide it. It was the most ridiculous thing in the world to think that the distance of continents between them could change that. All he could do was share every moment he could have with her and give some meaning to his existence. But he had to find this fiend. Find out why he crashed into his life and why was he pursuing Clary. But it was so hard to stay away from her and their baby. And the worst thing of all was when he discovered Sebastian was still in their lives. Jace could hardly believe it but he saw that slimy black haired prick with his own eyes. There was no mistaking it.

Why, how did that happen? If Clary really stood up that miserable jerk off on their wedding day as Aline had described, what was that lowlife doing here? He came over to her apartment every day with armfuls of groceries and supplies. Some small part of himself could admit that was a really decent thing to do but it defied all reason and a sudden slamming memory came back to him. Jace found it difficult to pinpoint exactly how long ago it had been, but it felt like ages ago, when Sebastian first slimed his way into Clary's life, after that first … break between them.

Jace hadn't known what made her turn from him then but he had a sinking feeling his grandmother had been behind it. He hadn't had a clue at the time but there were several little things that he could connect now, the strange almost verging on the giddy way his grandmother acted during that week apart from Clary and then Clary's determined stance to avoid his home, they way her mouth set into a hard line when Jace ever mentioned his grandmother again, which granted, wasn't often but … he should have figured it out before, but he hadn't considered anyone with any discerning capabilities, least of all his grandmother, could find fault with or dislike Clary. After all that had transpired since then, it was clear his grandmother never wanted them together. She had not been terribly concerned at first, thought it was a high school fling that would wear away once he graduated so she had been completely outraged when she realized he had no intention of letting Clary go when she first proposed the Herondale "merger" with English nobility. It was galling to realize that after he had so vehemently refused this proposal she still finagled it back onto his shoulders when she could capitalize on his memory loss. The more he delved into the accident and the way his grandmother "handled" him afterwards, the more this spy pointed at her involvement. But he couldn't answer the whys and he had to do that. It was the only way to end this, cut off the danger that loomed over him and anyone he was close to.

But Sebastian … there was a brief time, a lull in their strident adversity, when they both pretended they could be friends, even double dating on several occasions until one night, they had gone to the movies. Sebastian had brought some little blonde. Cute but obviously wasn't going to last. Sebastian never brought the same date around twice and the reason was obvious to Jace. He saw the way Sebastian watched Clary. He was good at hiding it from her. He gave his dates his full attention whenever Clary looked his way but when she wasn't looking, he directed such a concentrated longing in her direction it was … sickening. Clary had taken a break with Sebastian's date that last time they tried a double dating venture and really seemed to like this girl. They walked away together arm in arm, laughing over some ridiculous scene in the movie they had just watched. Of course, Sebastian watched them, or rather her, walk away and Jace found he was at the end of his patience with Sebastian's dogged, pathetic devotion.

"Do you think if you just wish really hard, maybe find a shooting star, they might come true?" Jace smirked but there was no humor in his droll tone.

Sebastian watched Clary until she disappeared into the girls room with his date and then turned to Jace.

"I'm not stupid," Sebastian answered calmly. "I do have an endgame."

Jace's temper bubbled up from the way Sebastian spoke, a determined challenge in his voice. Jace's hands closed into tight fists.

"And what would that be?" Jace said in a low voice.

"I'm going to be there," Sebastian responded sedately. "You're not right for her. You're going to let her down. It's inevitable."

A swift fury rose up in Jace but it was blunted by a choking horror. "You're full of shit. That's not going to happen."

Sebastian almost looked at him with pity but Jace knew he was just gauging his weakness. "You can't even say how you feel about her. Have you ever told her? Do you even know?" Sebastian paused. "I'm better for her. If I wait, she'll see it too."

Jace wasn't sure what would have happened next but he could feel his entire body hardening, every muscle stiff, ready to explode into action. And then he felt her small warm hand fold into his own. He turned his face down to look at her and the rage just … evaporated. It was impossible to feel anything but … completely content when she held his hand, her green eyes shining brightly up at him with so much trust and encouragement. At that moment, it was easy to see that Sebastian was a desperate fool.

Except now, Jace knew they had switched roles in at least one critical, fundamental way. He was on the outside, looking in, just so desperately wanting to be with Clary, while Sebastian … Jace wasn't sure what he was to her but he at least was near her. Yet, they were uncomfortable around each other, from what he witnessed and when they were out together, Jace was consumed by every detail, every nuance of their interactions. Jace knew he had to be aware of everything around them, that would be the only way to catch the spy, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her and Sebastian when he was around. He could not curb the damning, gut-wrenching need to know what Sebastian was to her. He knew a large part of how he was able to stay away was because he could see something kept them separate. They were distant with each other, even more so than those first few months of their friendship when Jace made sure he was always there when Sebastian came to visit her and he scrutinized everything and regularly complained of his unremitting dislike of their relationship.

There was even a bizarre Clary look alike nanny who was usually situated between them. They seemed to prefer her company when they were out together. They were less uneasy when she was with them and it was a relief. So, maybe both he and Sebastian now shared the same pitiful hopeless wanting.

He was tempted to go back on the pills but he flushed them away shortly after his memories came back and he knew the emotionally deadened state induced by the pills had hurt her. His eyes scanned the windows of her apartment building, the sidewalks and the streets around it. It was an endless routine and it was driving him crazy. Where was he? Was it really this hard to spot the creep or was it just himself? Had he lost this basic ability to observe and catch his enemy?

A flash of coppery red hair coming through the entrance of her apartment building arrested any further thought. She had the baby in the stroller. He was happy to be outside, a big smile on his face. There was always a shocking thrill to see this child, his son, and there was no question this was his son. He was a miniaturized, infant version of himself with the same golden hair and eyes. But then his attention quickly shifted to the redhead pushing the stroller ahead. The rush that ran through his body every time he saw her was muted by surprise. How had he missed Sebastian leaving? Or did Sebastian stay up in her apartment … with the nanny? And then his stomach contracted, as if he received a blow to his belly that travelled painfully up his chest and left a maddening drumming in his head. It wasn't Clary. It was the nanny taking the baby out. Which meant … Clary was up in the apartment … alone … with Sebastian.

Since he had found her and set up this vigilant watch over her she had never been alone with Sebastian. She always had the baby with her. Sometimes she would leave the child in the care of the nanny and Sebastian while she ran her errands and he had grown accustomed to this pattern. It had lulled him into the comforting belief that there was nothing between them. So, why was she alone with Sebastian now? Could he … could he be mistaken? Maybe that was her with the baby? As impossible as it seemed, maybe he had mistaken the nanny for her. They were the same height and her long mass of curly red hair almost covered her face along with a baseball cap that was pulled low, shielding her eyes but … but … he could always tell the difference between them. He could only see her back now. She moved briskly eastward and he was almost certain that wasn't Clary. It was the way she moved, the curves of her body, even heavily pregnant bundled under a thick sweater and coat in the deepest winter chill which had passed months ago, but still, even then, he knew he could spot those differences that made her unique and precious and … his.

He almost physically fell back from the sudden driving impulse to go to her, to get her away from that thieving snake. But he had to find this spy. He couldn't reveal himself until then. Where was that shithead?! He gripped the binoculars tightly as he scanned the streets and then the windows of the buildings. He took a few deep breaths, struggling to encase the blaring alarm beneath an icy dome, the way he had conditioned himself for so long it felt like an eternal loop of time. Except it was different now. He no longer had the pills to dull away the stabbing loss but his mind was no longer a confused, useless, blank mass anymore and that helped. A lot.

This was bullshit. Where ever that creep was, he was no longer here. Jace might not be as good as Aline but he had been well trained and he would have spotted the guy by now if he was still around. He had to go. He had to go get his girl now. He couldn't wait anymore. He slid into a light jacket and grabbed a hat. His hair was still shorn close to his head and with the hat on, his golden blonde locks were hidden. He raced out of the building so fast, the hallways, the exit stairway and the heavy steel door that led out to the streets were one big blur. It would only take seconds before his hurried pace would bring him to the entrance of her apartment building.

But then the door opened and out came Sebastian. Jace immediately dropped back, hiding in the shadows of the alleyway he had just emerged from and then she followed. It was amazing, the feeling, the shocking spark that went through his body accompanying his racing heartbeat at the sight of her. He hadn't been this close to her for almost two years.

Jace felt himself freeze over when he watched Sebastian take her by the waist and pull her into his arms. Then he leaned down and kissed her. She didn't push him off. Jace couldn't move. He could only stand still, watching, noticing every detail. She didn't exactly return the kiss. Her hands went up and rested on Sebastian's biceps. If she objected, if there was any sign that Sebastian was forcing himself on her, Jace would have been on top of him in a flash but she wasn't fighting it. She stepped back slightly. She closed her eyes and there was something … almost resigned … about the way she stood there when Sebastian weaved a hand through her long tresses and pulled her head back and deepened the kiss.

A deafening roar rang through his ears and for a second he was blinded by a raging streak of black and red. He could feel all reason seep away but then all his senses froze over as if he had plunged into ice cold water. Clary and Sebastian were only two or three steps away from the building's entrance. She detached and turned when the door opened again and someone else came out. It was him. It was the spy, the guy that had crashed his car into Jace's life and turned his world upside down. He changed his hair. The tufts of gray were gone. He was shaved bald and he'd lost some weight but he was still a big, thick guy with a bearish build. His appearance had changed enough from even the shots that Aline had taken that it was possible Jace might have missed him but he had a perfect view of the guy standing across the street under the full light of day and Jace hidden in the shadows.

He was speaking with Clary and Sebastian. They knew him. He was a neighbor. He lived in that damn building with her. Jace couldn't see Clary's face but the guy was smiling and then extended a hand out and patted Clary's shoulder. He pulled a fedora over his bald head and walked away with a wave. Neither Clary or Sebastian seemed perturbed by the guy's appearance. Sebastian pulled her in close to him and then guided her away. They were headed to his apartment building which was conveniently located only two blocks away. Of course, Sebastian resided in a newly built luxury building.

This was it. Somehow he shut out the vision of Clary walking away with Sebastian. He couldn't think about what was happening between the two of them. Clearly they had gotten past their issues and … reconciled … no, he wasn't doing this. He couldn't do this. He had to concentrate on the scumbag that ruined his life. He had to get the answers he needed and he had to protect Clary and their son. Jace drew on the months and years of exhaustive training and proceeded quickly toward his mark. One way or another this would be over soon.


	42. Chapter 42 Inside Out

Clary closed her eyes and breathed out, exhaling a long sigh. She felt good, decadently warm, and so sated, but … wrong at the same time. She stretched out on the bed, lengthening her body and curving her back and then felt Sebastian's arm curl around her and draw her back into his chest. His hand slid up to caress a bare breast and gently massaged it. His other hand travelled down, his fingers lightly tracing over the contours of her stomach and then settling over the damp mound between her legs. She had no visible body hair and didn't bother to groom herself below her waist so there were some sparse mid length hair there that he toyed with.

"You're so fucking perfect," he growled into her ear and then proceeded to suck on her earlobe. "Can I kiss it?" he asked tugging on the hair twined around his fingers.

She shivered and felt her wet arousal seep out of her. This was wrong. It felt really good but it was wrong, wasn't it? It was wrong … to let any other man than Jace make her feel this way. It was wrong because she could never give anyone the kind of love she harbored for Jace. She shuddered into him as he smoothly inserted an index finger into her wet sleeves.

"Please let me kiss it," he begged into her ear, his tongue lapping behind it.

"God," she cried out involuntarily. "You're so hot. How are you doing this to me again, so soon?"

His lips traveled down to the back of her neck and his mouth sucked at the nape of her neck sending spasms of pleasure up and down her body. He was moving his finger inside her more fervently and she could feel her tensing nerves quicken from his gliding touch, moving so easily in and out of her soaking passage. She was going to come ... but then he stopped. She whimpered with need and her own hands reached down to finish herself off but he grabbed them and kept them away from her desired destination.

"I-I need -," she gasped.

"I know what you need," he whispered feverishly.

She eagerly parted her legs when she felt him slide up against her, his ramrod cock prodding up the back of her thighs making its way to her eagerly awaiting entrance. She shuddered as the bulging head of his cock nestled into her and she wiggled her ass, backing into him, forcing him to insert more than half of his long shaft inside her. Yes, that was what she needed. She was panting loudly when her inner walls began to convulse and felt the hot spray of his ejaculation join her own liquid orgasm.

"Fuuuck," he groaned loudly as he gave in, pushing and pumping deeply into her. "I wasn't going to do that." He buried his face into her neck and started sucking aggressively.

"Ah-are you … don't leave a mark," she tried to protest but it felt so god damn good she couldn't move away from him if she wanted to.

He pulled his mouth off her neck. "I'm afraid it's too late but I won't leave any more if I can suck on your perfect tits and pussy," he rasped into her ear.

She convulsed from the absolute heat of his remark. "I-I've never done that," she answered shyly. "I mean, not … down there."

"What?" Sebastian stopped moving his hands and fingers up and down her body momentarily stilled with surprise. "Seriously? You've never been eaten out?"

She tried to twist around to face him but he kept her in place, her ass fixed against his groin, his cock still deep inside her with her back to him, his arms tightly caged around her.

"Why?" she asked a little nervously. "Is that … not good?"

He chuckled and there was clear delight in his voice. "No, it's perfect. I'm going down on you now … and I'm your first. Trust me, you're going to love it. I've been wanting to do this for so long I can't fucking wait to get my tongue inside you."

She gripped his arms hard, jerking him back up and preventing him from moving down her body. "Why? Why do you want to do that?" she asked uncertainly. "I mean, why don't you just …," it suddenly became too real and she was at a loss for words. She shook her ass back onto his cock which stirred in response and it came to her in a hurtling flash. Jace. Jace would never forgive her for this. Jace told her … so many times. He said he couldn't handle it if anyone else was inside her and she'd already … she had let Sebastian inside her … how many times now? Five, five times, and now she was suggesting a sixth time and …

"Please, please don't overthink this," he begged, his voice so plaintive and so thick with an obvious want. "I make you feel good. We both know it. That's all I want to do. Forget everything else. There's only you and me. Please."

She relaxed her grip on his arms and she felt him slide downward then lift her legs up around his shoulders. She was too confused, just so uncertain about everything to understand what was happening until she felt his soft wet mouth plant itself over the opening between her legs and lightly suck on the highly sensitive folds over her clitoris. Her hips reflexively rose and her hands went straight down to hold onto something, anything, landing into and grabbing his thick hair.

"Oh, God. Oh, Sebastian," she cried and she felt completely out of control when his hands pulled her legs farther apart and she was just so open and bare to his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. He was nipping on her folds, sucking then using his tongue to lap up her come over and over again. She was utterly exhausted and spent after what seemed like countless orgasms from the ministrations of his mouth when she felt his hard body line up over hers and his cock, thicker and more engorged than ever, it might have been frightening if she wasn't so tired she was barely conscious, slam deep inside her.

"Sebastian!" she screamed out when his deliberate driving plunge brought her to orgasm again and this time she was so obliterated she couldn't even stay awake through its completion.

* * *

Jace had followed the guy and watched him as he sedately had a meal at a small local hole in the wall diner. After about an hour of watching the creep reading a newspaper he picked up, slowly chewing his food, Jace felt absolutely murderous. He knew he had to hang back, make certain he wasn't detected. He was well aware this should be harder to manage since he was spying on a spy. He knew this and he forced himself to adhere to the patient, constantly alert state that was necessary to capture his prey. There was no fucking way he was going to let this asshole out of his sight, to let him escape his trap now. He could not allow himself to get lost into the blackened, soul sucking void that threatened to swallow him whole. He could not allow himself to listen to his own internal clamoring that shrieked he had to go back, get Clary, kill Sebastian, just go get his girl back.

What was she doing with him? She couldn't – she couldn't – be with him. This was the worst nightmare imaginable. Clary, his Clary, had kissed Sebastian, had allowed him to paw her like – like – she belonged to him – like he had the right to touch her – like she didn't already belong to Jace, body and soul, like Jace hadn't already claimed her, all of her. Jace looked down at his hands. He had broken the coffee mug he had been nursing in them. The handle somehow came off and a long crack had formed from the lip of the mug to its base. It was heavy ceramic that looked as if it had weathered many long years of use but now it met its end in Jace's trembling hands. He slowly lowered the broken mug onto the table in front of him. He kept his head down when he saw the guy finally get up and make his way to the diner's exit. Jace watched him sideways as the man turned right outside the diner. Was he headed back to his apartment? Jace sprang up, left some money on the table and darted out after the man. Thank God. He was heading back to the apartment building.

He had to keep a steady distance from the man. He couldn't know Jace was here. Not until Jace had the answers he needed. He was so close, he thought. Too close to let it all fall apart … but Clary! He had to get her back – quickly. Nothing else mattered if somehow … no, he couldn't think that way. He couldn't let himself consider the possibility that she had accepted his last words to her, that she was lost to him.

Finally, something went his way. Through the glass building entrance door, he could see the guy check his apartment's mailbox, Apartment 7B. He pulled out some mail and then walked over to the elevator, pushed the button and waited. Jace whirled around, heading to the apartment building next door. The buildings were adjacent to each other. It would be easy for him to sneak onto Clary's building from the rooftop of the neighboring one. He had already checked it out during one sleepless night when he first found her. Shit, he had to do this right. He knew he should go back to his place, his watch sight across the street. Come back under the cover of darkness and get the man then. Not now, he had to wait … but that meant everything had to wait. That meant he still couldn't go to Clary yet. God, he had to do this right. He had to go back and call in some favors from the Agency. He wasn't going to be able to handle the guy alone unless he was willing to permanently dispose of him and … while that shit head didn't deserve to live, Jace couldn't do it. God only knew what the guy's story was … and he couldn't do anything that might permanently jeopardize his ability to go back to her … like getting caught killing a person. Clary and he belonged together. He knew that. He just … he had to keep faith. He couldn't give up. Not now, when they were so close. Please God, don't … don't let her give up on me.

* * *

Christian was on her lap and precociously staring into her eyes. It was one of those bizarrely mesmerizing moments when it felt like they were communicating through their souls and she had to mentally slap herself. This was a two year old. She had to stop putting the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders. That wasn't quite right, it was a poor description of their bond, but whatever it was, she knew it was unfair to her baby boy to read so much into their silent connection. It just, it felt like something more. He broke the moment with a gurgling laugh and clapped his sweet dimpled hands on her cheeks.

Sebastian sat down beside them on the couch and his arm went around her waist, gathering her and the baby on her lap to him. Her body automatically reacted to his touch. She squeezed her legs together, trying to cut if off but not quick enough to keep him from noticing the way her body plumped up and shivered next to his. It had been less than a week since they started … making love? dancing naked together? fucking? That's what it was, fucking, they were just fucking and it was getting extremely complicated. Everytime she looked at his face, her eyes were drawn to his full lips and she quivered thinking of where those lips had been only a short while ago. She tried to temper the heated arousal between them but he was just … so convincing when he reminded her neither of them were tied down to anyone. They had been engaged. It wasn't as if the sex was untried territory between them. There was nothing to fret over. They were adults, enjoying each other and why should they deny something that felt so good? It was hard to argue with him when she was trembling all over from the insertions of his expert tongue.

But she was not so mindlessly lost to this lust filled fugue to be blind to Tracey's predicament. Clary could tell Tracey was distraught. Tracey couldn't miss the change between Clary and Sebastian or how Sebastian barely acknowledged her presence anymore. He only seemed interested in her when he asked her about Christian and gave her instructions to watch the baby when he persuaded Clary to come back to his apartment. Clary was weak enough to let that become a daily, hours long recurrence.

"We need to talk," she said in a low voice.

Sebastian smiled. "Of course. Shall we go to my place?"

Clary gulped but quickly answered. "No, not today. Let's just go into my room for a few minutes."

Sebastian frowned but nodded and dug his fingers into her hip.

Clary got up quickly and placed Christian into his playpen. "Tracey, can you keep an eye on Christian?" she called out.

Tracey nodded, her head bent down. She studiously avoided watching Clary and Sebastian together. She had been busy preparing the baby's bag for their walk and was standing by the kitchen counter. Clary walked back into her bedroom, then shut and locked the door when Sebastian followed her in. He immediately pressed up against her. She couldn't help opening her mouth in response when he placed his full lips over hers and started unbuttoning her jeans. But he only managed to slide his hands into the waist band before she firmly pushed him away and kept her eyes closed as she shook her head.

"Stop," she told him.

He didn't say a word and she finally lifted her head to peer up at him.

He glared down at her and was obviously struggling to compose himself.

"Why?" he finally responded in a harsh voice.

"Because … it's never going to work. We both know you need more than what I can give you. It's wrong," she whispered back at him and folded her arms over, gripping tightly at her elbows.

"Why are you doing this?" he growled angrily. "I know you want me. You know you want me. I bet," he sauntered close to her, his eyes still blazing, "if I touched you right now, in my favorite spot, you'd be all wet for me."

She stepped backwards. "I – I'm not going to pretend I … don't … enjoy … fucking you. You know what you do to me." She watched him smile almost fearfully. He looked positively devilish in that moment. He looped a finger through one of her belt straps and pulled her to him.

"Then let's just … enjoy ourselves," he whispered.

"I want you to date Tracey," she said quickly and breathlessly.

Sebastian stopped and looked down at her confused. "You want me to date Tracey?"

She let out a quick sigh of relief. "Yes, I do."

"Why?" he frowned.

"Be-because … I care about you. I think she can make you happy and if you could be … objective about it, I think you'd agree," Clary answered.

He ran a hand through his glossy black locks. It was the perfect length, just long enough to meet his long black lashes. "So, if I date Tracey, then what?"

"Then what – what?" she asked confused. This was what she wanted but at the same time she knew it would hurt. She tried so hard to convince herself they were just fucking but the truth was she knew she loved him. It just wasn't enough … and it was also too much. If she just loved him a little less, then maybe it could work. She could let him love her and not feel torn up that she couldn't give him the same love in return. She met his eyes and returned his steady gaze. Suddenly she understood. She knew he'd refuse unless …

"And we … we can still … enjoy … each other but …," God, what was she saying? What was she doing? She had no idea what would come out of her mouth next but she knew, she could see it in his unflinching stare, he'd never do it, he'd never give Tracey or any other girl a chance unless she … "you have to really try … with Tracey and … we .. we can't let her know about us."

Sebastian looked at her incredulously. "She'd have to be a complete senseless idiot to not know about us. Clary …," he sounded frustrated.

"No, Sebastian. I'm serious. We're not doing anything else unless you … you take Tracey out … on a date." She wondered if she had gone completely crazy. Because, shit, it hurt to think about Sebastian with Tracey ... with anyone else … but this was the right thing to do. She knew it was. She had to force him to find someone else. The two of them together could never work and she had to show him. She had to help him. He needed to see that there was so much more and better things for him. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Why?" Sebastian wiped a tear from her face with his thumb, caressing her cheek with his large warm hand. "Why do you do this?"

"I told you why," she answered solemnly. "And … as long as you still want me, I'm here … but we … we're not … we can't be forever … and you deserve forever," she said in a quiet voice. She knew if she spoke any louder her voice would break.

Sebastian's black eyes churned with turmoil and his hands swung up to his head, tightly clutching back his hair with both hands. "You … you just have to turn me upside down, inside out, don't you? I don't even know how to explain this shit to myself. I'm fucking crazy about you and you're just constantly pushing me away. Even now, after … after … it's just so goddamn obvious we're perfect together, you still have to do this and why? Because of that … numbnut that left you over two years ago … and it's not even like that was the first time ... If I wasn't' your fucking slave, I'd ..." Sebastian stopped then and exhaled long, low breath. He was still seething but he seemed to calm when she kept her eyes locked and steady on his. "Fine," he muttered. "We both know I'm incapable of saying no to you. I'll do what you want but I'm going inside you now and you're going to let me in whenever I want."

She didn't object when he stripped off her jeans and easily thrust inside her. He was right, of course, she was dripping wet for him.


	43. Chapter 43 Conversations

Jace didn't have all the answers but at least he knew. He knew that fucked up old lady was the worst person in the world. He knew she had hired that bearish goon. He knew that sorry excuse for a human being not only rammed his car into Jace to stop him from going back to Clary but had also shot her up with some specially brewed poison that had almost killed her. When that sack of shit admitted this, Jace went numb and he raged into a blind fury. He supposed he should be grateful that he had called in and received assistance from the Agency. He still managed to land a few solid blows on the creep, Silas, before the others pulled him off. And this meant the interrogation was at an end until Silas regained consciousness. Unfortunately Silas also suffered a broken jaw and Jace probably would have choked the shit out of him when he understood the creep was effectively silenced and therefore of no further use to Jace. However, Aline had propitiously arrived and pointed out Silas could still communicate through other means. They would get anything else they needed from him soon.

It turned out Aline was far more effective at obtaining information out of Silas than Jace had managed with his more forceful tactics. Aline was also someone, one of only three people in the world, that Jace actually trusted and she had somehow convinced him to retreat and leave the remainder of the interviews to her. Of course he watched from a live video feed but he was no longer within arms reach vicinity of the wretch and Jace was aware that his barely contained violent inclinations toward the creature when he only blamed him for the car accident had now soared into a bludgeoning need to exert mayhem and destruction every time he looked at this monster who had almost killed Clary.

Unfortunately there seemed to be limitations to the information that Silas could provide simply because he did not know the old lady's plans or motivations. One thing he did know was that the decades retained Herondale lawyer, Edgar Mitchell, had known something, had been deemed a threat and accordingly dispatched. He also insisted he did not know what was in the injection he gave Clary. He had been led to believe it would do no permanent harm. When he later learned that was a lie, that he had been the instrument to deliver her precariously to death's door, he had cut all ties with Madame and ceased working for her. He had actually started monitoring then following Clary to watch out for her and protect her from any further nefarious actions Madame may have in store for her. Except, after two years of watching and waiting, he concluded that Madame had no further interest in her. He was not concerned Madame would go after him. For one thing, she had enough on his past to hold over his head with dire consequences if made public and for another, Silas believed he deserved any punishment meted out for the damage he had wreaked, even unwittingly. He did not give much thought to his own future, except so far as it might endanger Clary. He was clearly remorseful over the harm he'd inflicted on her. He was taken with her in a way that may have been best described obsessive. He seemed to know her life thoroughly and at one point even acknowledged that he possessed an unusual need to be a watchful guardian in her life. Jace reacted with a strong desire to beat him to death but Aline convinced him to leave the sick fuck with the Agency. They would make sure he never bothered Jace or Clary ever again and in the meantime they would dig up whatever they could find on Edgar Mitchell. They would need Silas' testimony against … Jace could hardly think of her as human, let alone his grandmother.

And then, Aline turned her interrogative attention on Jace, inundating him with questions about his grandmother. Did he still hear from her? When was the last time they spoke? What exactly did she say? She even resorted to slapping him across the face to get his stinging attention. He didn't mind. He hardly felt it even though he could tell she wasn't holding back. He was too wrapped up with a burning fury that threatened to consume everything around him. Aline seemed to know what was on his mind.

"You can't do it. You know that," she told him calmly after another strike of her hand was followed by a few silent minutes between them.

He could tell she was trying to put more force behind the blows and it was beginning to annoy him. "What can't I do?" he answered.

Her face tightened, hearing the challenge in his voice. "God damn it. Don't fucking pretend that berserker revenge isn't the foremost thought in that brick head of yours."

Jace looked at her, really looked at her, his golden eyes flashing dangerously. "It's not revenge. I just have to end this. I have to make sure she can never hurt Clary again."

"She won't be able to do shit to Clary," Aline assured him. "We'll take her down. There's no question. I promise you."

"How?" Jace asked, unconvinced.

"We already have enough, but we're going to make this airtight," Aline explained confidently. "We're going to get proof and we're going to find out why she did this."

"She's inhuman," Jace responded woodenly. "Do you know what she's done? To me? And I don't understand why. The only explanation I can come up with is that she must be the devil, incarnate. So you see, there's nothing you can say to convince me anyone can contain her. She wants to destroy me and that's …," Jace looked almost puzzled as he struggled with his thoughts and emotions, "that's … acceptable. I'm used to being treated like her pawn, like I'm nothing to her, but now I know she tried to destroy Clary and that's … not acceptable." He stopped short and took a deep breath. "She has billions at her disposal. There's not a hell of a lot you can do that she can't buy her way out of."

Jace didn't think he could hold back any longer. He would be out the door in seconds, headed straight to the devil, like a target locked missile. He wasn't even sure what he'd do when he reached her. All he knew was he had to get to her and he had to end this. She could never injure Clary again.

"Jace," Aline spoke, sitting back in her chair. "You said it yourself. The only thing she cares about is money, so reason stands that this is all about money. Trust me. It shouldn't take long before we figure out the whole story. You just have to stay put and then … then you can be with Clary. That is still what you want?" Aline asked almost curiously but he ignored her.

"How long?" Jace answered tensely.

"We'll be as quick as we can. You know I'm here to help," Aline told him.

"How long?" His molten eyes were hard and demanding. "I can't … just wait." He didn't say the rest but he could see understanding click behind her eyes.

"She's been carrying an unrequited torch for you practically two years now. She'll be there when you go back to her," Aline spoke surprisingly gently.

Jace gritted his teeth. He couldn't voice his fears. He couldn't admit what he saw between her and Sebastian. "It wasn't … unrequited," was his own withering response.

"Well," Aline shook her head. "As far as she knows, that's what it was and it still didn't matter, not to her." She gave him an encouraging look. Jace thought it looked odd on her face. "She still loves you."

* * *

"So, it's our fourth date tonight and I think I'm going to have to make the first move," Tracey's hazel eyes sparkled with excitement.

Clary looked up at her and smiled. "Really? He hasn't tried anything yet?"

"No, nothing," Tracey huffed a little. She tossed a plush stuffed ball at Christian who responded with uplifted hands and a squeal.

They were sitting on a wooden bench in a neighborhood playground and watched Christian running happily over the matted surfaces. Tracey had returned to the friendly, open and animated relationship she had with Clary since Sebastian asked her out and Clary only encouraged their burgeoning romance.

"I mean, we've kissed," Tracey ruminated, a small smile appearing on her pink lips. "It was pretty tame but … he's a really good kisser," she sighed dreamily.

"Yes," Clary agreed. "I hope it goes well tonight," she added with a cheerful smile and got up from the bench. "I better head to class. I'll see you soon my little munchkin," Clary ran up behind him and scooped Christian into her arms, giving him a hug. He answered with a wave of protest but obligingly submitted to her kisses and even bestowed his own swift peck on her cheek when asked. "He's getting so independent," Clary sniffed, watching her child run off to join another toddler, merrily chasing each other around the padded playground.

"Sebastian said he'd drop by," Tracey called out in an offhanded way. "Said he wanted to see you," she added, turning her eyes away from Clary to watch Christian continue his scamper.

"Oh," Clary stopped and her hand gripped the tote bag around her shoulder. She could feel the hard plastic box with her paints and art supplies dig into her side. "I really have to run. You know, don't want to be late. I'm sure we'll catch up soon." She pivoted to leave.

"But you haven't seen each other for a while, right?" Tracey remarked. "I mean, I told him, you've been so busy with your classes and you've been painting in the park and running … a lot. I think he's kind of … bummed about it."

Clary shrugged blankly. "He doesn't need my company. He's got you, right?"

Tracey gave her a curious look. "Of course. I just want him to be happy and you two … are friends, best friends, I thought?"

"Yes," Clary nodded a little too vehemently. "He's done so much for me and Christian. I don't know how I would have managed without him. I want him to be happy, too. I just … I think … we might need a … break from each other."

Clary wanted to leave but she could feel the questions rolling off Tracey. She needed to talk about this and Clary felt she couldn't walk away from it.

Tracey toyed nervously with a long strand of her red hair. "Why would … friends … need to take a break from each other?"

"Christian, stay inside the gates," Clary warned when she peripherally spotted him and his cohort running toward the playground's exit. He turned to her and nodded agreeably, then ran to the slides. "Tracey, Sebastian and I … we have a complicated history and sometimes … sometimes it's unhealthy for us to spend so much time together." She held her breath. She hoped that would be enough.

Tracey seemed to struggle with her thoughts. "I really like him. Do you think it can work between us?" she finally asked.

Clary nodded. "Yes, of course. I think you and he are perfect together. Just be patient with him. Some things, our past, have been … hard for him to get over … but anyone can see you two belong with each other. You have so much in common and you're both happy together. I know you can make him happy."

Tracey's face twitched but then she couldn't hold back a reluctant smile. "Thank you. I really care for him. I'd do anything I can to help him, to make things easier for him."

Clary nodded and walked briskly away. She couldn't continue this conversation. She had successfully avoided Sebastian since he started dating Tracey two weeks ago. After their last hurried encounter in her bedroom, she realized it would be impossible to keep that up. It had been too awful afterwards, well used, still warm from the feel of him inside of her only minutes earlier, attempting to give them as much privacy as the small apartment could offer yet unable to shut out their voices, the glee in Tracey's answer when he asked her if she wanted to have dinner with him. There was something else, something in Sebastian's voice, a sort of gladness she detected that seemed to affirm this was right. Sebastian belonged with Tracey. Clary was doing the best thing for him by urging them together.

That very evening, she had searched online for the art classes that she subsequently enrolled. It was a wonderful escape, three hours every day to lose herself in her pencils, charcoal and paints. And when she wasn't in class, she always dressed for an impromptu run. It became a habit for her to sprint out the door, out through the building's back exit when Sebastian rang the lobby buzzer, dropping by for a visit.

He had sent her a few texts, nothing incriminating if Tracey should see them but his last message, received yesterday evening, a tersely worded, "need to see you," had left her agitated and uncertain. She was beginning to worry this was a mistake, that she was just cowardly fleeing from any possibility of suffering even a small part of the brutal loss when Jace walked out on her. She had convinced herself that Sebastian and Tracey together was the best thing for all of them but she knew the way things currently stood, with the constant nerve wracking threat of his face to face presence was becoming unbearable. The worst part was she knew she wanted to see him again. She wanted to put her hands on him and to have his hands, his hard, strong body on her. Of course, it wasn't like Jace. Nothing could be like that but her time with Jace was beginning to feel like a dream, those heady days wrapped in his arms, an overwhelming feeling of completeness entangled within the ecstasy of his embrace. She was grateful for the almost unreal haze that blanketed those fleeting memories. She could not linger on them and she found she had at least gained the strength to cut off the images and divert her mind elsewhere when they came upon her, unbidden. But, she was sorry to realize that this was partly owed to the insidiously compelling and immediate vestiges of Sebastian's touch that now haunted her. She knew she would have to confront Sebastian soon. She couldn't keep running from him like this but she was afraid of what she would do.

* * *

"Jace Herondale to see Imogen Herondale," he informed the receptionist at the front desk. It had been a long time, years, since he had been at the Park Avenue headquarters of the Herondale business empire. He almost smiled at the familiar echo of his voice in the immense marble halls. Everything gleamed pristinely, exactly the way he remembered.

"Mr. Herondale," the receptionist started, her eyes wide and uncertain.

"Yes," Jace responded. He felt constrained in the custom made suit from Paris. He knew he couldn't very well come to the office in his armed gear but he would have felt better with that on instead.

"Is Madame Herondale expecting you, sir?" the woman's voice quivered a little and Jace observed her closely.

She was likely in her early thirties and wore a black suit and a pearl gray shirt. Her dark hair was tightly pinned back into a neat bun. She did not look as if she were easily intimidated. He supposed it was his name but then he recognized the way her eyes sized him up.

"No, I expect not," Jace answered. "Please have her informed I'm here. I'm certain she'll see me."

He walked away from the desk and stood before the security turnstiles, facing the elevator banks and an image of his grandfather ghosted in front of him. A proud smile on his face when he looked down at Jace, maybe five, not more than six, and told him one day this business would belong to him, that he trusted Jace would capably steer the Herondale business, add to its honorable legacy for another generation to come. For a long time, he had wanted that, for his grandfather. The memory of the tall man, his warm smile, the large strong hands that patted his shoulders, that always held him up, the only source of affection Jace had ever known, had beckoned him. It made him want to fulfil the destiny his grandfather laid out for him. It was not until it became obvious Grandmother would force him to choose between this path or Clary that he rejected it. It had not even been difficult to make that choice. Some part of his heart knew his grandfather would want him to be with Clary, that he would see what they were together. Anyone who could love would know only the most fucked up fool would give up what he and Clary had. That was the point, right? His grandmother could never love anyone and he was that fucked up fool. She had manipulated him and twisted his life into so many layers of shit he had been completely lost and he gave up.

"Mr. Herondale," the receptionist stood up and cast a broad white smile at him. "Please go ahead. Madame Herondale is waiting for you in her office."

"Thank you," Jace moved through a turnstile and made his way up to see the woman who had been the means to his very existence, one that she had gone to great pains to carve into a semblance of her own barren life.

He knew the path to her office. The high floor was virtually her own private space, save the 'servants' she always kept on hand. A long walled booth greeted the entrance out of the elevators. Behind it, sat one of these servants in the form of a husky, well built man, predictably suited in stark black attire.

"Mr. Herondale," he greeted and stepped swiftly out from behind the booth. "Madame is waiting for you in her office."

Jace wondered if the man would follow him in, but no, he only stood there, watching Jace with a mild expression on his face. Jace did not doubt he would stand immediately behind the door once Jace went through, ready to jump inside at the moment his grandmother called out. He also sensed there were others close by, that hid from his view, but watched him very carefully.

Jace walked through the door and stepped inside. His grandmother stood by the windows, gazing outside at the panoramic city view. They were close to the top floor of the building, providing a grand metropolitan scene out the floor to ceiling windows. She occasionally used the helicopter from the roof to avoid city traffic. It wasn't the most comfortable way to travel but a quick escape always had its uses.

She had not aged well in the course of the two years since he last saw her, when she dictated her terms before helping Clary, when he lay bereft and convinced her warnings were true; he would doom Clary and their child with his continued presence in their lives. Her silver hair was no longer styled into a meticulously glossy helmet around her head. It looked thin and flat, a harsh bob around a face mapped heavily with tired lines around her eyes and mouth. Even her clothing, a cream colored silk blouse, tucked into a steel grey skirt and matching jacket, while obviously expensive and custom made, sloped inelegantly against the sharp lines of her thin body.

"Jace," she said in a low raspy voice.

"Grandmother," he replied. He had played this moment in his head many times, over and over, but this wasn't what he imagined. He did not know what he felt but the rage that had brimmed for weeks, almost overflowing through his body, seemed to drain away at the sight of her.

"So, the Board," she looked at him with tormented, hunted eyes, "they reached you."

He thought about how to answer her. He no longer possessed the consuming hatred that wanted to destroy her. Looking at her he could see she was already there. He didn't have to do anything. "I would have given it all up. I would have signed everything over to you. I never needed this, not like you did."

Her eyes widened. He had never seen her look so vulnerable, so broken. "What do you want?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"I want my life back. I want all of the years I've lost," he answered. He was amazed he didn't feel spiteful. He only felt sad.

She watched him questioningly. He wondered what she had told the company, the board, the employees, her minions outside the door. Certainly the rank and file were unaware that the Board had pulled their support from her. They had always held a nominal role in the company's affairs, with only the specter of Madame Herondale's unexpected departure without a formally named heir to result in any significant input from the Board, a group of seven men and women that had also been designated in his grandfather's will. It seemed his grandfather had planned his company's succession thoroughly. Had he known how ruthlessly his wife would guard control over this company? Why had he even allowed her the illusion of complete ownership only to wrest it away from her on Jace's twenty-fifth birthday? Had he only changed his mind and had the codicil drawn up during his final days of life? Jace would never get those answers now without Edgar Mitchell and he supposed in the end, it didn't really matter. In the end, his Grandfather's final wishes prevailed.

"So, you're not yet twenty-five and yet the Board would still hand over control of my company to you," Imogen stated matter of factly. "Decrepit ingrates," she spat out then, sounding more like herself as her words seethed with venom. "They all profited greatly from my lead and yet they would throw me out, pretending at a higher moral ground, that my continuance at the helm would condone my unethical behavior. Idiots."

"What was this unethical behavior they cited?" Jace questioned. He kept his distance from her. He had no desire to see the ruin on her face more closely.

She scowled at him, but she looked surprised and uncertain. "I was informed the amendments to the will were furnished by you. Surely, the Board discussed their decision with you before I was notified."

"No," Jace met her eyes evenly. "I never met with any of them. I did have them notified. Certified copies of the legal documents were delivered to the Board but we haven't spoken. They don't even know how to contact me. After I discovered the truth, I had copies sent to the parties that should have been notified years ago, as stipulated in the codicil, and then I came directly to you."

She lifted her head and her eyes glazed over with a haughty sheen. "They believe I kept the amendments hidden, that I planned to bury the truth. They questioned Edgar's termination and demanded to speak with him, as if I answer to their demands, and in any case, I have no idea where Edgar may be. We hardly ended his employment under auspicious terms. We certainly had no plans to keep in touch."

"Convenient," Jace said, "and unusual. A lawyer with the kind of connection to a family that Edgar possessed, more than three decades with the Herondales, would normally be kept close, certainly reachable through a phone call. You never know when there may be questions. Questions that could be answered from the long family history he must have been privy to. Why did you let him go?"

"Why are you here?" she snapped. "Why did you come back? You disappeared, completely. There was no trace of you in any civilized society. And then, finally, I learned you maintained some sparse correspondence with Alex Lightwood and that furthermore you had joined some government agency, like a common soldier, only it was the kind of armed services where you would be constantly in the thick of battle. I fully expected that the next time I received an update on your whereabouts I would learn you had been killed somewhere, in some God forsaken wilderness."

There was an exasperation on her face that Jace had never seen before. It confused him. "Why do you care?"

"You're so much like him," she answered angrily. "He threw his life away. He could have been so much more, but instead, he chose a meager cop's life. I never understood it. And that woman he married. She was nothing. A pretty face, nothing else, nothing at all, didn't even have the strength to carry on after … after … I told him it was a mistake. I warned him he would regret it and then," Imogen stopped speaking. She lowered her face, something Jace had never witnessed before, and shook it slowly back and forth as she stood trembling.

"My father," Jace surmised. He couldn't keep the amazement out of his voice. "You're talking about my father. You ... cared for him?"

Her face popped up then. Her eyes glistened but they blazed lividly. "He was my son. Of course I ... cared. And when he died, love died with him."

"So you've known what it is to love, then you must have known, what you were doing ... to me ... when you hurt Clary, when you kept us apart. Why? If you just told me about the will, I would have let you have it all. I only ever wanted Clary." His voice was jagged. "I never cared about the money. I was prepared to take over the family business. I wanted to make Grandfather proud ... and you ... That once meant something to me but now I can't understand why ... why you've done this. Why did you need to break me?"

She looked impenetrable, as hard as stone. "I thought I could make things right. I thought you were my second chance. You are so much like Stephen. He would have done great things with the company. He was brilliant and so strong and fearless. But he was naive. He always believed there was good in every one." Her eyes appeared unfocused as they gazed away from him, at something far away. "I did everything for you. I couldn't let you inherit the same blind faults as your father. I couldn't allow myself to love you and I couldn't allow you to love. I've had my own lesson to learn. It's weak. It will only hurt you. That's why I had to get rid of Marcus and that's why I had to get rid of your Clary. Fortunately for her, you came to your senses before it was too late for her."

"You killed my grandfather and you almost killed Clary. I never understood why you seemed to hate me," Jace said quietly. "But it doesn't matter anymore. It's over now. All of it. You're not going to hurt anyone anymore."

Her eyes shifted back at him. She looked surprised and then the double doors to her office opened. Aline stood there with a small crew of agency suits. A glimpse behind them revealed more agency members in armed gear surrounding her bodyguards who were held back and restrained with handcuffs.

"We found Mr. Mitchell," Aline declared. "It's time to go."


	44. Chapter 44 Revelations

_**I can't help myself …**_

Clary exhaled with relief when she heard the lock turn at the front door and ran out eagerly to greet Tracey. She had texted earlier to tell Clary she had some errands to run and would arrive an hour later than usual. Of course it was fine. Clary's class wasn't scheduled for hours yet but she was usually out for her run by now and somehow her nerves felt frayed from this unexpected change. She was just feeling … weird, a little off, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Sebastian and the flare of anxiety that had erupted since her conversation in the park with Tracey.

Mercifully, at least she was pretty certain it was merciful, she had not received any more messages from Sebastian. In her current frame of mind she honestly wasn't sure if she could deal with it rationally. She was just a jumble of nerves and the sooner she got them out with a nice long run, the better.

"Tracey," Clary called out cheerfully while she strapped on her running belt where she kept her keys and a few bucks in case she decided to pick up anything on her way home. "Christian is still asleep. I have his meal ready in the fridge. You'll just need to heat it up a bit and -," Clary's eyes rounded in horror as Tracey stepped in with Sebastian immediately following her.

Tracey gave Clary a half-hearted worried smile and a weak shrug. "Guess who I ran into just as I was getting into the building."

Tracey turned around to face Sebastian who had his eyes cast down. Tracey placed her hands on Sebastian's chest and leaned into him to whisper a few private words but he flinched back abruptly and an awkward atmosphere permeated the small room.

Holy shit she had to get out of here. "I've got to go," Clary managed to blurt out in a strangled voice. "For my run," she added, clearing her throat quickly, although it was obvious from Tracey's expression that she knew exactly who Clary was running from.

As Clary sprinted out the door she froze at Sebastian's grasp around her arm. "I'll join you," he told her.

She was too freaked out to know how to answer this.

"But -," she forced herself to take a good look at him.

Crap, he even had running clothes on and a light sheen of perspiration shone over his skin. He must have been pacing around outside waiting for her to step out. God, she was so stupid. This was bound to happen. They lived just a few blocks away from each other. He was dating her nanny. They had lived together, been engaged to marry and only recently shared marathon sex sessions. How did she expect to pull this off? It was impossible.

She nervously looked away when her eyes began to dwell on his hard body beneath the light sweats. Of course, he looked good. But he was less polished than she was used to seeing. Running around the neighborhood would do that, stupid. She was viciously angry with herself. She must have known this would happen. Probably wanted it this way. But … but it was more than just the exercise that had him looking … coarse. His face was shadowed with unshaven stubble. It was a bit shocking actually and the dark, almost black hair on his head had grown out, long enough that he tied it back off his head. She unconsciously reached out to touch the little ponytail and patted the thick strands gathered together behind his temples.

"Do you like it?" he lowered his face and stared unflinchingly into her eyes.

She nodded quickly and headed out the door with Sebastian at her heels. She didn't know if he said anything to Tracey. A loud hum of static filled her head. She thought she might be losing her mind but quickly remembered that kind of escape was not an option. There was Christian. She had to hold herself together for him if nothing else. They didn't say anything but she could feel him only inches behind her and the air around them felt fraught and oppressive. She ran down the exit stairs quickly, then took a few long, deep breaths of air before turning to face Sebastian.

"We have to talk," he said.

She nodded. "We can run along the west side, find a place to talk along the water."

He moved up against her. "No, we're going to my place."

She stepped back. "That would be a bad idea."

"I need you," he reached out and pulled her into him, holding onto her arms. "This isn't what we agreed."

Clary searched his face knowing she shouldn't look too closely but she had to know what was there. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I couldn't do it."

They stood there, facing each other, so close. He wasn't letting go and somehow she noticed with alarm that her own hands had gone up and held onto the back of his arms. What was she doing?

"I've fallen in love with you," she said in a bewildered voice. "All this time, when I told myself we were just fucking, it wasn't true … not the first time and not the last time. I was making love to you and," she gulped, trembling at his fervent grip and the way it seemed to hold her up. "I can't … I can't."

"Clary," he whispered. "Please, what do I have to do? I'm yours. I'll always be yours. Please be with me."

She suddenly became frighteningly aware that they were standing in the front of her apartment building, in plain view, where curious eyes were observing them.

"We should go," Clary started to speak, letting go of Sebastian's arms.

He released his own hold over her arms but instead pulled her to his side so that they stood practically attached at the hip. He held her close to him, a hand firmly placed around her waist. He walked quickly away from the building, pulling her with him. She could tell he was taking her to his apartment and despite the protest she had voiced and the continuing protests in her head, she thrilled at his touch, the way his hand rubbed circles around her hip. She knew exactly what would happen as soon as they were behind closed doors. The certainty that he was going to give her an explosive orgasm, had her pelvic muscles thrumming with eager anticipation. Just walking to his apartment, their hips rubbing against each other, had her breathing quickly, panting with desire.

It took less than five minutes to get to his building and less than a minute from there to reach his apartment. As soon as the door shut behind them he had her pressed against it with his mouth hungrily covering her own. She opened her mouth to accept his gifted, all pleasing, tongue. Even the way it caressed her own tongue, dipping into her mouth, had her entire body spiking with pleasure.

His hands glided down her body and pulled at her workout tights, squeezing her uncovered ass. Oh God, his long fingers were tugging at her panties, moving them aside and now slid back and forth against her pussy, slowly easing apart her wet lips.

She pushed him off and jerked away from hm. Her tights were pulled down around her thighs and restricted her movements. They eyed each other unwaveringly. She watched him place the fingers that were still glistening from her arousal into his mouth and clean them off slowly, savoring her taste.

"What's wrong, baby?" he said in a low voice but she could see how close he was to the edges of his control by the furious heat in his eyes.

"Did you sleep with Tracey?" she blurted out. Where did that come from? She hadn't even realized she had been tormented by this question since Tracey told her she would make her move on him during their date that night.

Sebastian stared at her and then licked his lips. Holy shit he was hot. She could feel those lips all over her body, sucking lustily, everywhere, on her neck, her nipples, her breasts, her stomach, travelling down further and drinking her in.

"Do you think I'm a complete moron?" he asked lazily. He even managed to make those words sound impossibly sexy the way his half hooded black eyes, rimmed with long curling black lashes, stared down as her as if she were already naked and ready for him. "Of course I didn't sleep with her … or fuck her … or finger her. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Just come here." He grabbed her waist and drew her in.

"I told you to date her," she answered without meeting his eyes. She didn't try to resist the way his arms wrapped around her. "It would be okay if you had … been with her."

"No, it wouldn't." One of his hands reached up to cup her chin and raised her face up toward his own. "Just like it wouldn't be okay if you were with anyone else. You belong to me now and I belong to you." His mouth gently found her own and the kiss was exquisite.

She forgot where they were and how they got there. His kiss flooded over every sensation. It wasn't until she felt his smooth bare skin pressed against her own naked flesh that she realized somehow they were both undressed. She didn't object when he lifted her up and then slid her body down over his, her legs fastening around his waist, until the junction above her thighs blissfully sank into his rigid staff. They stayed still for a while in this position, not wanting to move, just relishing the delicious feeling of their fully joined sex.

"Stop fighting it," he urged between their heavy breaths. "That's right, baby," he growled as her pussy started to convulse around his cock and she was writhing against him, grinding into him as if she was desperate to make his body a part of her own. "Clary, God," he gritted his teeth and collapsed over her. Her back landed heavily on his cushioned mattress.

She hadn't even noticed him carrying her into his bedroom. She was so thoroughly engrossed in their throbbing parts. He curled over her, sucking nosily on her breasts at the same time he started slamming into her slick and swollen opening. And then his warmth gushed inside her. She was practically purring. She loved the way he felt, the way they fit together. She gave into him, enjoying his soft full lips sucking and tugging, marking up her body with the impression of his teeth and his scent, his essence all over her, deep inside her.

His face was buried in her neck when he spoke in a muffled voice. "You know I'll do anything you want but please … can't we be happy? Stop running away. Stop pushing me at someone else. You have to know how much I need you. It's not going to stop because you're scared to be happy and I will make you happy, if you let me. I'll never give you a reason to doubt my love or devotion."

"Oh, Sebastian," she was dizzy from their lovemaking and still moving her pelvis up and down, allowing her pussy to skim against his spent cock. It jerked appreciatively and was already firming up again. He pulled her hips up so that the rounded spearhead of his cock rubbed perfectly against her g-spot.

"I know your body, don't I?" he whispered in her ear. "I know this little pussy and I know she wants me all the time."

"Oh, Sebastian," she cried out drunkenly. "I love you."

She only got a brief glimpse of his face before his mouth found hers again and he kissed her so passionately it made her want to weep.

* * *

There was a knock on the apartment door that startled her. Who would be knocking on the door? Anyone who didn't have a key to the apartment should have rang the buzzer to announce their entry into the building. Must be a neighbor in the building? Tracey peered through the peephole and gasped with amazement. She unlocked it, turned the knob and flung open the door.

Jace looked down at her. Neither of them said a word until finally Tracey recollected herself. "Um … you're the father? Clary's son?"

He lifted an eyebrow and then nodded. "I'm Jace. Is Clary home?"

"No, she went out," Tracey answered, still astounded at the sight of him.

"Did she tell you about me?" he asked.

"No," Tracey admitted. "She never talks about you." She wasn't sure why she was telling him this except she had never really imagined Christian's father. She had always thought he met some tragic end, that Clary couldn't bear to speak of him, and now the living sight of him, in front of her, was like a revelation. "You look exactly like him … or he looks exactly like you … except he's small and adorable and you're -," she abruptly cut herself off. This guy was insanely gorgeous and had her sputtering mindlessly. "I'm pretty sure you broke her heart."

He stepped back as if she hit him but the expression on his face was grimly blank. "I need to talk to her," he said.

"Well, I guess you can wait for her. She just went for a run." Tracey wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing but it was hard to think clearly when you're confronted by a perfect masculine specimen.

She stepped to the side as he stalked into the apartment. He moved with a leonine grace. Incredibly, he was even hotter in motion and you could see the rippling muscles beneath his clothes. He moved purposefully around the small apartment. It was as if he were studying every detail of the place. He would stop from time to time when something particular caught his attention but for the life of her she couldn't see what could be so absorbing about an oversized old and worn paint splattered button down shirt Clary wore when painting or a black coffee mug with the Northwestern Wildcats emblem emblazoned on it. She thought he practically vibrated like a live wire and then it was as if the plug had been ripped out of him. He stood as still as a statue in front of Christian's closed door.

"He's still sleeping," Tracey explained. It was obvious Jace knew who was behind that door. "You can go in there and take a look at him. He's the most precious little boy imaginable." She suddenly realized how strange this was, that she should be describing Christian to his father, that she was probably introducing him to his son for the first time.

She walked over to where he stood as he slowly opened the door and he walked in so impossibly lightfooted that she couldn't hear him make a sound even though she stood less than three feet away and the floors were old and creaky.

Jace stood over Christian's crib and lowered his face to observe Christian's slumbering form. He gently put his hand over Christian's head and then brushed it lightly down the boy's back. As he started to move his hand away, Christian turned onto his back and stared up at his father. Christian's golden eyes widened at the sight of the man hovering over him but before Jace could pull his hand away, Christian reached out and grabbed it.

Tracey watched Jace's face transform. His eyes brightened as if they reflected the sun. It was as if rays of sunbeam burst from his eyes and his mouth lifted in a tender smile.

"His name is Christian," she told him, unsure if he even knew his child's name.

"Christian," Jace breathed out.

"Daddy," Christian answered with a shy smile.

Jace looked stunned. "How-how does he know? How do you know me, Christian?" His marveling face swiveled between Tracey and Christian.

Tracey shrugged, her own mouth open with astonishment.

"Mama pichers," Christian replied, a pleased look on his face.

"Clary – she must have shown him pictures, told him about you," Tracey interpreted.

Jace looked hesitantly dubious, then uncertain until his face changed again, manifesting an evident elation. "She told him about me," he said in a soft voice.

 _ **Don't kill me. I get inspired by Clebastian.**_


	45. Chapter 45 Survival

Clary woke up in the best possible way, screaming out loud with Sebastian's mouth firmly planted over her soaking passage. He raised himself up swiftly, the lower half of his face shining with her wet emissions and he silenced her with a deep kiss just as he plunged inside her and joined her climactic release.

"Oh God," she shuddered while her body wound down. "I have to go," she murmured.

Her entire body felt like jelly. She wasn't sure if she could even walk so she sat up slowly and stretched.

"It's your own fault," Sebastian told her chidingly. "You've been away from me too long. I was going crazy after the first day and it's been building up every day since then." He rolled over to her and sat up embracing her from behind and kissing her neck. "I hope you know I'm not done with you today."

She turned to face him, her objections already on her lips. She had to get back to Christian. It was almost two hours since she'd left the apartment for 'her run' and she had her class and-

"Later," Sebastian smiled. "I know I can't keep you here for the rest of the day, but tonight you're mine."

She returned his smile. "Well, you'll have to stay at my place and we'll have to wait until Christian falls asleep."

Sebastian bowed his head and kissed her shoulder. "I think I can handle that."

She got up unsteadily and headed for the shower.

"I'll join you," Sebastian followed her. His hand moved teasingly down her back.

"I have to go, baby," she giggled but relented at his stricken expression. "Fifteen minutes, tops," she sighed.

He twirled her around and thanked with an ardent kiss to her lips while his hands played lightly with her breasts.

She almost regretted it when he broke away. He really was an amazing kisser.

"Let's get out of here," Sebastian's face lit up.

"What do you mean?" she frowned. "I am leaving … right after I get washed." She hesitated but then moved toward the bathroom before he pulled her back.

"I mean, let's leave this city. Let's go on a long trip. I want to wake up with you in a different place every week. I want to see the world with you beside me," he said eagerly.

The way he looked at her made her head spin. He was so beautiful with his thick black hair messily fanning his chin and his eyes shining with excitement. Her heart warmed at the thought of sharing such an adventure with him … but, "the apartment, my classes … I live here with Christian," she answered questioningly.

"We'll bring him, of course," Sebastian replied. "It's the perfect time, before he gets old enough for school and you won't need those classes," he added. "Just think of it. What could be better than filling your canvas with all the wondrous sights of the world as witnessed first-hand through these beautiful green eyes." He caressed her cheeks softly and gazed lovingly into her face.

She sighed envisioning the dream Sebastian painted for her. "I wouldn't really have much time for any art work. Christian is very young and needs lots of attention."

"We'll bring Tracey if you want. She can help out with Christian, watch him when you need some time for yourself or when we want to be alone," Sebastian circled his arms around her waist.

Clary frowned up at him disbelievingly. "You're serious?"

"What?" Sebastian looked befuddled.

Clary rolled her eyes. "I'm tying myself up into knots trying to think of how to break it to her, that we're together … and you're thinking we can take her with us on our romantic world tour?"

"Oh," Sebastian looked a bit perplexed, as if he hadn't given it a thought. "Honestly, nothing happened between us."

Clary scrunched her nose up at him doubtfully.

"We kissed twice," he declared. "No tongues, even. They were practically pecks I'd give my grandmother and we only did that because the first time she leaned in and closed her eyes and I didn't want to embarrass her and the second time because she asked for it." He laughed incredulously. "We're friends. I'm pretty sure she knows that's all it is."

Clary shook her head at him regretfully. "Sebastian, she's crazy about you. I'm not sure she's going to stick around after I tell her about us."

"Well then, I'll do it," Sebastian said confidently. "Tracey would never leave Christian. She loves that kid and I know you're making way more out of this 'thing' she has for me than what's really there."

"No, Sebastian," Clary answered resolutely. "That would only hurt her more."

"What are you talking about?" It was clear Sebastian really had no idea how much it would hurt Tracey to behold Sebastian's cavalier dismissal of her feelings, certain it couldn't extend beyond a warm friendship.

"I always thought you could read females a lot better than this," Clary wondered.

Sebastian looked abashed by this comment. "I guess–well, I haven't-," his words trailed off uncertainly.

"What is it?" she was surprised by his reaction.

"I mean, I honestly haven't really been aware of any girls … except you … for a long time," he mumbled, barely intelligible.

She was touched by this pronouncement but he was probably just joking. "Since when?" she asked lightheartedly. She remembered her long ago assessment of him as a consummate womanizer, the type of male predator who always knew how to lure in and trap his female prey with an innate sense of their weaknesses.

He stared into her eyes. He looked hurt by her skepticism. "Since you had Christian. Since you moved in with me. Since that night you let me make love to you." The sincerity in his eyes could not be doubted. "You're the only girl in the world to me. I will always love you."

She fell into his arms and kissed him. She was startled when she tasted the salty streak of her tears in her mouth and ended their impassioned kiss.

"It's time to get in the shower," she said and led him in.

* * *

Clary fumbled with her keys getting into her apartment. It had been three hours since she had left the place with Sebastian and she worried over what Tracey would think of that, let alone how she would take the news that Clary had deluded herself and consequently Tracey as well, as far as what Sebastian was to her and what he could be to Tracey. He had wanted to come with her. He still believed Clary was overblowing Tracey's affection for him but he was concerned at the way Clary suffered over this confrontation with Tracey. He was reluctant to let her face any situation that spurred such evident anxiety but she managed to convince him she had to do this without him. Of course it was gratifying to know how much he cared for her, how he wanted to spare her apprehensions. She didn't deserve him.

After many promises to call him after she had her conversation with Tracey and assurances they would be reunited later that night and several goodbye kisses, she had left Sebastian's apartment alone. Even that was an accomplishment since he had at first insisted he would walk her back to her place but she knew she needed a few minutes alone, to collect her jumbled thoughts and chaotic spirit.

The notion of dropping the life she had formed here and travelling the world with Sebastian was … appealing. It was another type of escape but a thrilling one. It would be a brand new journey that through its sheer novelty would push the constant grey sadness even further back into the recesses of her heart. Was it too much to hope it might even fade away, that it might finally disappear for good? She couldn't hold on anymore. She was through with it. She had admitted to Sebastian she loved him. It was good. She would stop comparing it to what she once had. That was over. She stepped into the apartment with a renewed determination. It was time to tell Tracey the truth, shut the door to her past and enter a new, wonderfully hopeful stage in her life.

Her mind stalled. Everything went blank. Everything stopped. Her heart stopped. She stared at the man seated on her living room couch with his toddler replica on his lap. They both looked up at her simultaneously.

A joyful smile appeared on her baby's face. "Mama," he cried out with his hands outstretched for her.

For a terrifying moment, she didn't know what to do. She was paralyzed with shock.

"Tracey?" she called out hoarsely.

"Clary, I'm here," Tracey popped her head out from the kitchen. "Just taking care of some dishes." She then registered the complete shock on Clary's face. "Clary, are you okay?"

"Tell me," Clary cut her off, her face frozen in disbelief. "Is he actually here? Am I imagining this?"

Tracey came out of the kitchen and wiped her hands against her jeans before placing them on Clary's arms. "You forgot your phone. Otherwise I would have called you," Tracey said worriedly.

Jace got up with the baby in his arms and walked toward her. She stepped back automatically.

"This is real," she said weakly. "How? Why?"

"Clary," his voice was low and it lanced right through her.

"Give me my baby," she demanded.

He looked confused and hurt but then moved closer toward her, holding Christian out for her.

"No," she stopped him. "Give Christian to Tracey. Do not come near me."

Tracey quickly took Christian from Jace. She looked awkwardly, back and forth, between them. "I think you two need some privacy. I'm taking Christian to the park."

"Park! Park!" Christian reacted with delight.

She didn't want to be alone with him but she said nothing while Tracey quickly strapped Christian into his stroller then picked up a large tote bag with his various supplies. He was rolled past Clary when he reached out and grabbed at her with sturdy hand. He was too small to reach her hand but he had a strong grip on her calf. She tore her eyes away from Jace and looked down at Christian with bleary eyes. Was she crying? She lifted a hand to her cheek and mentally thanked herself that it remained dry.

"Daddy back," Christian informed her with a serious expression and she was a little lost. "Park! Park!" he shrieked, breaking the moment and Tracey pushed him forward. She gave Clary an encouraging squeeze on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to Clary and then the door closed behind them.

She turned to Jace. "Why are you back?" She did her best to ignore the way all her senses went on high alert and seemed to tingle uncontrollably.

He looked different. This was a man in front of her. All traces of boyish youth seemed to have been stripped away from him and replaced with hard, lean muscle in the years they had been separate. He was the epitome of masculine beauty and that hadn't changed except now he could have been carved from stone. But even with these obvious physical differences there was something … something about him that was more like … the boy she had met in high school, the one she had known from first sight she was destined to love forever. Of course she knew it was still him when they had last been together but there had been so much turmoil and confusion swirling around him there was a constant suspense during those months after they had found each other again, that as much as they belonged together he didn't know who he was and it wasn't quite right. It was staggering to see him now, to be able to feel him again through the air between them. He exuded waves and waves of pain. It threatened to swallow her up and bury her.

"You want me to go," he said evenly. There was nothing on his face. Nothing that betrayed the tidal despair that emanated from him.

"I want to know why you're back," she croaked out. "The last time I saw you, you told me to forget you, that I'd never see you again, that you were dead to me." Her arms wrapped around herself. She thought she would fall apart. She had to hold herself together.

"I-I remember," he answered. "I remember … everything."

She trembled. "You remember," she repeated.

"Yes," he said. "I came back to tell you. My memories are restored."

For a flickering moment, there was a surge of happiness at this news and then the tide pulled it back. It was only a fleeting few seconds but it reminded her she was strong enough to see through this.

"I'm glad," she said calmly. "Is that why you ran away from me? Because it got too hard, missing all those pieces of our past?"

He seemed to relax fractionally as he absorbed her words. The pain that blared out from him changed into an anxious cauldron of volatile emotions. This was better. It helped to level her own feverish nerves.

"It didn't help," he answered. "But no, that's not why I left." There was a bleak fear in his eyes and voice. "I was a basket case. I knew I was fucked up but I … I couldn't let you go. I didn't know why or how. I just knew I belonged to you." He stopped and swallowed back a heavy grief. "I was convinced you and the baby almost died because of me and … in a way, that was true, but not the way I thought."

"What do you mean?" She had always known he blamed himself for her sudden illness but it was obvious there was more to it.

His rigid pose faltered and he caved into himself. He stumbled back and sat back on the couch. Her eyes rounded at his weakened state contrasting with his formidable form.

"It was … my grandmother," he said slowly. "She had this … this monster … following me and that day, that day I left you at your house when … when you told me we weren't ready … to marry," he gave her a haunted, injured look but continued, "this monster rammed his car into mine just as I was turning back. I-I was coming back to you. I couldn't stay away from you for ten minutes before I knew. I knew where ever you were was where I belonged and it didn't matter if I had to wait. I would wait for you for an eternity." The words spilled out with a rush of air.

"Why?" Clary asked incredulously. "Why would she do that?"

"There's more," his voice was quiet but brimming with anger. "Afterwards, when I came back to you, even without my memories I saw a picture of you and I knew I had to be with you … she had this same monster find you, stalk you and shoot you up with some poison. It was that day, that day you almost died. She did that and then she promised me she would have the best doctors cure you if I left, if I acknowledged I was cursed and doomed to cause your death and the baby's if I stayed." He panted heavily.

Clary pulled her hands to her mouth, stifling a scream that threatened to bellow out. She covered her face with her hands and collapsed to the floor, huddled over to block out the world. Finally, she lifted her face, streaked with angry tears. "Why? I still don't understand why?"

"There was a codicil to my grandfather's will." Jace looked as if he were struggling to hold himself back from her. He was off the couch and crouched only a few feet away. "He left everything to me … on my twenty fifth birthday the business, all the properties and the assets would transfer to me. I don't know how she thought destroying my life would help her. I think she must have gone completely mad once she realized the only thing she's been living for in the last two decades, the money, the power, was only a temporary illusion."

She scooted backwards until she hit a wall and then cradled her legs into her arms. "You're not twenty-five yet. Why didn't she just … I don't know … transfer the money into her own accounts. She could have done something, couldn't she?" she said pragmatically.

"No, grandfather left very meticulous instructions in his will. The board took control of the business from her. They can do that for gross malfeasance. Their appointment and limited powers were also set up in the will. Nobody understood why he'd take away full oversight from ownership of the company but now … it's like he knew there would be a need for it. They know what she's done, horrible things. She can't hurt you anymore. I promise," he said urgently.

She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. She let herself bask in its golden rays before she remembered. Too much happened. She unraveled herself and forced her body to stand. It was harder and took longer than she intended. She was conscious of Jace's fixed attention on her.

"I'm sorry about your grandmother," she said carefully. "I always hoped you would reconcile and be a family. You deserved that."

He was still hunkered on the floor, looking up at her with his magnetic eyes. They overflowed with anxiety, regret and worst of all, hope.

"So, now you're here. Do you intend to be a part of Christian's life?" she asked with iron in her voice. "Because if that's what you want, it has to be a real commitment. You can't just pop in when you feel like it. He has to be able to depend on you."

"Clary," Jace spoke with difficulty. His controlled demeanor cracked. He was all despair. "Please."

She shut her eyes. "I don't know what you thought was going to happen but you can't just magically appear in our lives and … pretend like the last two years didn't happen." She was quivering. She had to say what she needed to say and make him leave. "I'm not the same person I was when you left. For one thing, I have a child, our son, and he's my first priority. I would never deny him his father but I need to know you're not going to … abandon him … again. I will not let you hurt him."

She kept her eyes closed but she heard him breathing unsteadily and then, "Yes, I understand. I will be a good father to him."

She opened the floodgates and gave her senses free reign them. She had tried very hard to dull them and now she almost fell back from the onslaught of emotions. She waded through the torment, the unutterable sadness. It threatened to hold her down and suffocate her but then … she found what she was looking for and almost broke down with relief. She believed him. He would be a good father to their child or at least try very hard to be. Somehow he had already formed a deep attachment to their son. He loved him. And now she knew what she had to do. His disgust, his hatred even, would be better than this bleak loss that coursed out of him and assaulted her senses. She opened her eyes and concentrated on him. She couldn't let her own confused feelings control her. She still loved him, of course, but it couldn't work between them. Not anymore, it was too late. He wouldn't want her if he knew the truth. She would help him move on from her. He had fallen back from his position on the floor. He sat limply prostrate, seemingly holding himself up with a torn up tattered will. His eyes were unfocused but they stayed on her, desperately pleading.

She cleared her throat. "You need to understand a lot has happened since you left."

He shook his head slowly. "I know that," he whispered. "And I know it's my fault. I'll do anything. I'll prove to you every second for the rest of your life that you can trust me, that I will never let you down-"

"Stop," she gasped. "Just hear me out. And don't make any promises to me. I don't want them." It was agonizing to be so close to him but she had to get through with it. "After our baby was born, it took a while before we were both strong enough to leave the hospital. For a long time afterwards … more than a year, I thought you would come back … because I was so certain there was nothing more real than what we had and … I couldn't believe you really gave up on us." She turned away from him and put some distance between them. "But eventually, it happened. I gave up. It was gradual. I didn't even believe it when my heart started to change. I wouldn't let myself think I could ever … be with anyone again but-"

She was stunned to feel his grip on her arms. She was incapable of speech against the frenzied sensations that ripped through her body from his touch.

"I know what you're trying to say," he was shaking so hard she was rattling from his hold. "If you don't want me anymore, if it's truly over between us, look at me, say my name, and tell me you don't love me."

He was too close to her. She could feel herself tumbling into the vortex of his eyes and the dam she had rebuilt around herself to survive these long years without Jace, this wall cemented by Sebastian's love was fragmenting. He would break her apart until there was nothing left.

"No!" she struggled under the tight hold of his hands. They were clamped around her arms and they wouldn't give.

"You can't do it," he said softly.

He was pulling her in closer. She was terrified.

"Stop, I love Sebastian. I was just with him. Before I got here. We've been together. We've made love … many times," she gulped out in a ragged voice.


	46. Chapter 46 A Choice

_**Thanks for the reviews. I enjoy them even if some of you aren't happy campers. Sniff.**_

She expected him to push her away, drop his hands as if she burnt him and spurn her. She had prepared for it, knowing it would hurt but certain it was inevitable. Instead, his hands grew tighter around her locking her in place as if he thought she would struggle away from him. She didn't know what to make of it. A deafening silence ensued and it became unbearable, only broken by the heavy uneven sound of their breaths. She had turned her face away immediately after blurting out the words and now several minutes later she slowly turned back to see what was on his face. Her own wrecked and harrowed mental maelstrom presided over her senses. It was impossible to understand what she felt coming from him when she was hurled into the pits of her own roiling hell.

How was this possible? After holding on and waiting so long for his return, it would happen now when she finally let go and fully gave herself to Sebastian. She was a complete mess but it would be better once Jace made this last decisive break. After all this time she had at last accepted that he had truly left her on that terrible day she awoke so pitifully weak in the hospital and he sat so far away from her. But somewhere deep in her soul she had not believed it was real, that he was lying to her and he was lying to himself. It had taken a long time to squash that belief but now, this time was as real as it gets. When he ended it this time she would not suffer any secret fantasies and lasting hopes that he would come back to her. She looked up at him warily, cringing back, but she couldn't move much with the grip he had over her arms.

What she saw in his face had her heart racing. "What-what are you doing?" she asked in a stunned, uncertain voice.

"I don't care," he said with a tortured expression.

She frowned, not understanding what he was saying.

"I mean … I care," he continued, "but it doesn't matter." He said nothing else, the intensity behind his eyes bore down on her.

"What do you want?" she asked weakly.

"Do you want me? Do you love me? Will you take me back?" he asked hurriedly.

Clary gazed up at him disbelievingly. "I just-I just told you … about Sebastian and me and … you still … want me? Her voice ended an octave higher than it began.

His golden eyes misted and as her own heart stilled with astonishment she could feel it then, what radiated out of him, a deluge of love and longing and a decimating heartbreak that teetered in front of him. He watched her, his eyes searching furtively into hers, desperate to find the answer he needed.

"I'm only concerned with the here and now," his voice cracked with tension. "Will you give me another chance?"

"I … don't know … how to handle this," she managed to choke out.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked in such a sweet innocent tone she blinked up at him more confused than ever.

"Why?" it wouldn't help. She was quite sure it wouldn't help … it would … it would …

"Because I've been dreaming of your kiss for so long I don't think I can let you go without it. Please." His long arms held her in place and now brought her closer, folding her into his chest.

The feel of his hands below her shoulders and the relatively short distance between their bodies, less than three feet, had already had her heart thundering and a keenly piercing need shoot through her body. She wasn't sure if she consented in any visible way but she knew she was incapable of refusal when he brought her into the shelter of his arms and truly embraced her. His head bent low, his back curved over and he buried his face in her hair. There was something so immensely … powerful … in this physical connection she realized she was sobbing in his chest, blubbering out some drivel.

He held her like that, so still, unmoving and immeasurably comforting, until she calmed and then he pulled his head up and looked searchingly into her face. She was vaguely aware that she probably looked a mess but it was a murky thought, barely meriting any notice with his divine aspect looming above her. As much as she tried it had been impossible to forget his imposing beauty but now it was almost secondary to a primal force he exuded. She could not deny the truth. It was the most wonderful, fulfilling feeling in the world to be encased in his arms, to lock eyes with the hypnotizing gold and amber hues that had been seared into her heart.

"I'm not going anywhere," he answered some unspoken question he must have seen on her face. "I will wait for you for as long as you need."

"I can't … kiss you," she spoke quietly but firmly, averting her eyes from his lips. "Not … yet."

He froze, an inscrutable look came over his face but he nodded. She would have thanked him if she could. She knew if he bent down and placed his mouth over hers she would have been powerless but it would tear her apart.

* * *

Sebastian gave her a thirty second head start before he quickly sped out of his apartment. He ran down the stairway, not trusting the elevators to get him to the lobby promptly enough, and pulled a cap over his head once he got outside. It took less than ten seconds to spot her halfway down the block. Her long red curls blew wildly around her head. She was an arrestingly bright and vibrant flame in a concrete backdrop. He would see her anywhere. Already, he noticed heads turning, appreciative glances in her wake. He knew her well enough to know she had no idea of the effect she had on the general male populace. She was completely oblivious to her own attractions. He had even suggested it wouldn't be a bad idea if she donned her old high school uniform of baggy shapeless sweaters and pants, smudged glasses and bundled hair. She assumed he was joking, called him a smartass and thrown a pillow at him.

She thought the guys from her art classes were just friendly when they suggested drinks, something to eat after class, maybe meet up somewhere, paint together. He had questioned her thoroughly to extract this bit of information. What had she been doing in the few weeks he hadn't seen her? It had taken some smoothly expert prying to pose the questions in a natural way, without any presumption of jealously or proprietary ownership over her. It reminded him of how he would eke out bits of information from her when they first became friends. Clearly he had not lost his skills with managing women although he had spoken the truth when he told her she was the only woman who mattered enough to him to employ these abilities.

He was insanely captivated by her. It felt like a lifetime ago when he first recognized these unprecedented feelings for her, when he convinced himself it was just a maddening lush to have her, to watch her come beneath him. But now that he had actually experienced it, he knew whatever he felt for her when he obsessed over her in high school was a mere drop compared to the endless sea of desire, passion and above all, love, that he possessed for her now. It physically hurt to be away from her. He couldn't explain this to her when he practically begged her to let him accompany her home. He couldn't explain it to himself, not really, but he would figure it out and tell her … soon. After she got through with this Tracey thing.

It was ridiculous but Clary was obviously serious about it and he would never scoff at anything that mattered to her even when he knew it was ludicrous. And she loved him. She told him she was in love with him. His heart was bursting. There was nothing else in the world but joy and love and he couldn't be away from her. He had agreed to let her return to her apartment by herself, speak with Tracey by herself, but she promised to call him immediately afterwards and he never intended to allow her out of his sight again.

He glared murderously at the guys who stopped and stared a little too long after her while he trailed behind her. She did not walk at her usual brisk pace and he could see her nervously tugging at a long strand of hair. She really was worried about Tracey. He wished she would let him handle it. He exercised supreme self-control to hold himself back when some muscle head stopped her for directions to a coffee shop. Sebastian ducked around a fruit stand to hide himself. He was close enough to hear their conversation. She was polite and laughingly shook her head when he suggested she get coffee with him. She walked more quickly after that and didn't seem to hear when Shit for Brains who obviously wasn't used to any rejection from the female persuasion call out for her number. Sebastian shouldered past him with a hard nudge and earned an indignant, "Watch it, bro," from the oaf.

By the time she reached her apartment building, he was exhausted tailing her, watching her like a hawk, keeping a cautionary distance to keep himself hidden from her notice and shooting daggers at every creep that eyeballed his girl. He considered standing guard in front of her building until she called him but decided that was a little too much and took a breather on a bench down the block. He knew she would call him. He could see it, a trusting dependence and faithfulness, in those perfect green eyes. He could stare into them forever. He could see she finally accepted their love. She wasn't hiding behind a wall of memories and holding onto fractured promises from the past anymore.

Finally, she was truly his own Clary. He had told … Jace … long ago, that he had an endgame and he had been proven right. And now, after all this time, he could actually … feel sorry for the guy. Sebastian knew Jace loved her. He also knew Jace was severely messed up. Jace had let her go and Sebastian had never made that mistake and he was finally rewarded for it.

He vaguely noticed three giggling teenage girls sneaking glances at him as they walked casually past him. He lowered his cap over his eyes and glanced down the street. He sat up with a start. There was a familiar redhead with Christian in his stroller heading towards the park in the opposite direction from where he sat. Was that-? He thought it might actually be Tracey and if it was Tracey then … he almost laughed out loud. Of course. He told her she was needlessly worrying. Tracey must have reacted exactly as he expected. No big deal. Nothing happened between them so why would she care if Sebastian and Clary were together? Anyway, it was obvious they belonged together, that they had this crazy bond between them. Tracey was a smart girl. Really pretty, too. Some guy would be lucky to earn her affections and Sebastian was sincerely glad it wasn't him. He had never wanted to hurt Tracey and had made a determined effort to establish a clear friend zone with her but that had never been his forte. Hell, he had never attempted that kind of thing, really, but it was good to know it worked.

He peeked down at his phone, sure that Clary would call him any minute now, but he could run over to Tracey real quick and just smooth things over. It seemed clear she had no intention of leaving Clary and Christian, what with her taking the little tyke to the park immediately after her plainly very short conversation with Clary but he should make sure she knew he really did care for her as a friend, that there were no misunderstandings as far as that was concerned. He jumped up, narrowly missing the three girls that had somehow materialized in front of him. They squealed excitedly before he quickly maneuvered around them with a rushed, "Sorry, excuse me," and jogged down the street toward Tracey.

He chuckled a little when he heard one of them exclaim, "God, he's hot," but he didn't slow down. He wouldn't have much time before Clary called him but then he'd have to wait a few minutes anyway, time it right before he could reasonably 'get to her apartment.' He definitely had time for a quick chat with Tracey. He ran with an almost giddy delight. He was so close to everything he dreamed of, something that had once had him so despondent with its seeming impossibility was now coming to fruition. It was good to stretch his legs, feel the air in his lungs, know he was alive and had so much to look forward to.

He was only a few yards away from her and she was just walking into the playground when he called out to her. "Hey Trace, wait up."

She spun around and he was a little taken aback by the wholly delighted look on her face. She beamed at him and when he reached her she jumped up, draped her arms around his neck and kissed him flat out. He was too astounded to do much of anything except stand there with his arms at his sides. When it became clear she wasn't about to let go anytime soon, he gently pulled her off and pushed her back to maintain some distance between them and then released her.

He was beyond puzzled. She looked a little puzzled herself but she was still smiling up at him.

"I'm so glad to see you!" she told him a little breathlessly. "I'm sorry about that," she giggled sheepishly, with two fingers on her bottom lip. "I know you like to take things slow but I couldn't help myself."

Sebastian frowned. "Um … didn't Clary … speak with you?"

Tracey looked away almost guiltily. It was really bizarre. "Well, we didn't really have time to talk–"

"Park! Park!" Christian demanded with his little hands outstretched.

"I better not keep the little guy waiting," she smiled down at him indulgently. "Are you going to keep me company?" she asked Sebastian with a confident grin on her face.

"I—I think Clary is expecting me," Sebastian muttered uneasily.

"Oh," Tracey shrugged. "Well, I think you might need to give her some time. She has an unexpected visitor."

"What? Who?" Sebastian asked rapidly.

"Let me just take care of our little man, here," Tracey rolled the stroller into the park and proceeded to unstrap Christian.

"Tracey—," Sebastian thought his heart might explode. It was beating so fast his head was spinning.

"Sebastian, are you alright?" she looked up at him anxiously.

"I-I just need to know," Sebastian spit out. "Who?"

Tracey placed a hand solicitously over his arm. "What's the matter, Sebastian?"

"Who is it?" he barked out.

She looked dismayed by his agitated state. "I-It's Christian's father. I think … he said … his name is …" Tracey watched dumbfounded as Sebastian spun around and raced away, "Jace."

* * *

They were seated on the couch. They hadn't said any more to each other since she told him she couldn't kiss him but they held onto each other and hadn't let go. She had her head on his chest and her eyes closed listening to the most satisfying sound of his heartbeat, her arms around his waist. She couldn't think anymore. Nothing made sense and yet she didn't want anything to make sense if she could only hold onto this moment.

His own head lay sideways over hers and he only moved it to kiss the top of her head every few seconds. Her heart felt full in a way she hadn't known for so long she had given up ever experiencing it again. And then the blissful silence was blasted by the prolonged and urgent buzzing of the building's front door. It took a second to register before Clary jumped up scared out of her wits. "Christian!"

Jace had risen with her and had already buzzed open the front door while Clary raced out the apartment. She heard the thundering sound of feet racing up the stairway and she ran down to meet them.

"Clary!" she heard Jace yell out panicked above her but she couldn't wait. If anything happened to her baby! She had to know!

Everything seemed to happen at once and in horrifying slow motion. She had made her way down another flight of stairs before she ran straight into Sebastian who grabbed onto her as if he had been drowning and she was the only thing that could keep him afloat.

"Clary!" he sobbed, his face etched in agony.

"What is it?!" she practically screamed. "Is it Christian?! Is he okay?!" she was falling apart. Not Christian! But what else would bring Sebastian here and in this tortured state? No, not her baby!

"Clary," he clutched at her and held her against him. "Don't," he responded to her jerking movement away from him, "Nothing's happened to Christian. He's fine. Stop."

And she did stop, as all the terrorized energy drained out of her body. Her mind was slow to process what was happening next so she remained stunned and immovable when Sebastian was thrown off her and slammed against the wall before falling slack on the ground.

She watched with horror as Jace leaped over him then held Sebastian down and pummeled him with a succession of resounding blows.

"Stop!" she protested and grabbed onto one of Jace's intensely destructive arms.

Sebastian groaned pitifully, his face a mess of blood, bruises and cuts. Clary feared another punch would kill him but mercifully Jace let him go and rose off him, a formidable control blanketed over him but could not wipe the dire hatred off his face.

"You will never touch her again or I will kill you," Jace spoke in a low, deadly voice.

"Stop it, Jace," Clary pulled him back then kneeled down over Sebastian, gently checking his battered face for broken bones. "If you lay another hand on him, I don't want to see you again," she said mournfully.

"He'll live," Jace muttered, but stood back warily.

"Maybe you should go," she looked up at Jace.

Tormented despair shadowed his face. "I can't. Not ... without... you."

"Hit me, you prick," Sebastian rasped out.

Clary was suddenly overcome with everything that happened and what she had feared happened and then struck by a paralyzing understanding she would have to make a choice and it would destroy one of these men before her. One if these men she loved would have to be permanently cut out of her life and it would cripple her and irreparably injure one of them.

 _ **All about the angst! Thinking another chapter, maybe two …**_


	47. Chapter 47 Sebastian

A familiar warmth settled in his chest at the sight of her long wavy black hair. His hand reached out to stroke her head. She raised her face. A lovely smile graced her rosy lips but it was her bright green eyes that momentarily stalled his thumping heart.

"Father," she said in her clear and trilling voice. She stood up from her lounging pose on one of the canopied outdoor sofas scattered about the large, meticulously groomed courtyard. She hugged him and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"What are you reading, Serafina?" he asked her, peering down at the thick tome she laid down next to her.

She picked up the book so he could see the distinct gold lettering of the 'Bhagavad Gita' on its cover.

"Are you old enough for that?" he questioned.

"I'm fifteen, father," she said patiently, "quite old enough to read and understand this and many other things." There was an imperious quality to her speech that charmed him and he tucked her long hair behind her ears to fully reveal the dewy ivory skin and sharp but refined bone structure that she inherited from him.

"You're quite right, darling. I apologize for intimating otherwise," he conceded good naturedly. Looking down at his daughter, he took in the tall, elegantly formed and beautiful young lady who was evolving before his eyes. Of course, he was very proud but he couldn't help feeling a slight regret that she didn't share more of her mother's features who would always be the epitome of feminine perfection in his estimation.

"Where is your mother?" he asked her.

"She's painting by the koi pond. I think William and Agatha are with her," Serafina answered dutifully and then sank back down, her head already bent low, returning to her book.

He left her with an indulgent pat on her head and headed through the artfully designed swathe of Japanese maple trees and colorful shrubbery bursting with lilac, pink and yellow blossoms that lined the pathway to the pond. He had tread through the walkway innumerable times as it led to one of her favorite places on the massive estate. It was easy to hide away in the many acres of grounds so the family was accustomed to notifying other household members as they travelled throughout their own home. He kept his eyes on the ground anticipating the moment when he would see her.

She was standing in a loose white gown that fluttered down to her bare toes. The supple rounded lines of her body was framed through a filter of sunbeams that basked around her. He quietly caught his breath at her ethereal beauty. He wondered if the day would ever come when her magnificence would fade and felt an odd mixture of both longing and lament at the prospect.

"Hello, beautiful," he called out languidly, walked up to her and delivered a kiss on her cool cheek.

She blinked up at him a few times as if she had been somewhere else and was only now transporting back to the gorgeous greenery they inhabited with the tranquil sounds of the large colorful fish swishing through the pond and a pleasant breeze stirring the soft curls piled on top of her head.

She gave him a welcoming smile. "Sebastian, I didn't know you were coming back so soon. I thought you'd be gone at least another week. Well, I'm glad you were able to cut your trip short and return sooner than expected ... with all of your delightful flattery." She looked down at herself and fondly patted the bulging roundness around her abdomen. "You always know what to say to make me feel better when I'm growing back to whale proportions."

Sebastian watched her affably. "I'd hardly describe you that way." He paused a little before continuing. "Pregnancy becomes you."

Clary laughed. "I thank you heartily for that. The children certainly do not possess your delicacy. They are very point blank with their assertions that I'm getting fat. Well, I suppose I've been at it enough times that I should be used to it." She put her brush down on the bench that had been placed beside her easel.

Sebastian stood behind her to take a closer look at her latest work. The koi pond with its everglade surroundings dripping with its lush colors and Agatha and William playfully dangling their arms over the rustic bridge over the pond was displayed on the canvas.

"You seem to be missing two important models," he glanced at the empty bridge.

Clary smiled tolerantly. "I've had to make do with these photos," she nodded at the enlarged prints with her ten and eight year olds poised over the bridge. "It's impossible to get them to sit for more than five minutes anyway. Although I suppose they are still better at it than Sarah or Emma," she referred to her two youngest.

Sebastian moved away and sat down at a bench a short distance away. He surveyed the scene with a nonchalance that had been carefully crafted over the years since they had discovered she was pregnant with their child, Serafina.

Immediately after the beating he had suffered at Jace's hands, he had known it was over. She had only looked at him with those beautiful green eyes, stricken with a disastrous grief, and he knew. There was never a choice and he supposed he always knew it. From the very beginning, she warned him, told him no other love could compare to what she felt for Jace. He lashed out then. The pain was overwhelming. He wanted to hurt her knowing that whatever she suffered would be nothing against his own obliteration.

It was obvious Jace wanted to permanently eliminate Sebastian and at that moment, he wanted the same thing. He goaded Jace, describing how he had her, over and over again.

"I just fucked your whore seven ways to Sunday," he rasped out, spitting out flecks of blood. "Take a good whiff. That's me all over her." Soon, it would be over, he hoped.

Even with his concentration on Jace, he couldn't help his innate awareness of her. The blood rushed up her cheeks. She jerked back as if he struck her but she didn't shove him away. Instead she gently removed herself away from him. It took everything he had not to turn to her, grab her, beg her not to let him go. Jace lowered his head, his eyes locked on Sebastian. A fierce wrath stormed across his face. Sebastian felt certain if Clary left he would be freed from this excruciating misery … but he couldn't tell her to go. He couldn't do that one thing that would finally free him.

"Clary," Jace spoke surprisingly calmly. "Go back to your apartment."

"He-he has to get to a hospital," she sobbed out.

Sebastian tried to get up on his feet but landed on his back in a heap. Everything hurt. Jace had to finish it.

"I promise," Jace turned to Clary. "I will make sure he gets help. I'll see him to a hospital. I won't hurt him."

Sebastian coughed out painfully. Jace's very existence destroyed him and yet he had the audacity to tell her he wouldn't hurt him. He could see it on Jace's face. The rage, the burning need to tear Sebastian apart dissolved when he looked at her. He was doomed. Jace would not grant him the only thing that could liberate him from the racking desolation. And then as he witnessed this one possible alleviation crumble from his grasp, the remaining vestiges of his strength depleted and he lost consciousness.

When he awoke he was on a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and for a few blessed seconds he didn't remember what had happened. He caught a glimpse of a small redhead, slumped in the armchair next to him and ... he was alright. There had been some accident, he reasoned. Maybe he'd been hit by a car. Clary always said he rode around on his bike like a maniac. He certainly felt like he'd been run over but he was fine, Clary was here and he had woken from a nightmare, a horrible, soul draining nightmare. He didn't have to think about it to know he had been in the midst of one and he certainly didn't want to piece it together. But she moved. Her face was revealed. It was Tracey, sleeping on the chair. Clary was not there and then it all came back. Jace had returned, beat him to a pulp. Clary was gone.

Clary looked at him curiously. She had just asked him something. She wanted to know what brought him over today, unannounced and unexpected.

He cleared his throat. "I was thinking of taking Serafina with us for our trip to Europe. I thought it would be nice to have her join us for our annual tour … before she gets too big to hang out with her dad."

Clary considered this. "Well, we should let her decide. If she wants to go … you're sure Tracey's up for it?"

Sebastian grinned at her. "Oh, she's looking forward to it. Her doctor says it's fine as long as we get back before the end of the month for her next checkup. She's about two months behind you so … she's hardly showing."

It would be their first child together. Sebastian did not know if it would be a girl or boy and honestly did not have a preference. After close to nine years of marriage he had finally relented. They would have the baby she had spent so many years yearning for … but he had no real desire for another child. For so long … he held onto the living bond between him and Clary as a kind of faith in what they had, a breathing, thriving proof of the perfection they created together. Only … after he learned of her latest pregnancy, her fifth since Serafina's birth, he could see it … hurt Tracey. She had waited long enough. After all she'd suffered for his sake, he had to give her what she needed.

Tracey had stuck by him with an unconditional love and support he recognized as something even more pure than what he bore for Clary. He knew his love had been selfish and demanding, that he would have done anything to hold onto her. Tracey didn't ask him for anything. She didn't reproach or blame him. She didn't point out his weakness for another woman. She always came to him when he needed her. Immediately after the fallout with Clary, she came to see him every day, spent hours with him. She was no longer Christian's nanny and got a waitressing job. She didn't complain about this or any of the other drastic changes she adopted to be the person he needed. He saw her as this amazing friend he never imagined he could have, a girl he could just talk to, someone who provided some small relief from the long, wretched days before him. They had always gotten along well. They enjoyed the same past times and had similar tastes. Whenever she suggested a movie, a show, a ride through a new neighborhood or a more remote mountain path, even when he was at his lowest, she could pique his interest. He knew an outing with her would be better than sinking further into his own personal black void. Romance … even sex … was the furthest thing on his mind. He didn't mind when she took his hand. It was all within the bounds of friendship as far as he was concerned.

She had even convinced him not to press assault charges against Jace. In truth, he hadn't really considered such a measure. It seemed a cowardly response but his mother was quite vehement that it was only justice, that Jace was a menace and should be lawfully punished. What Sebastian really wanted was a rematch, to square off with Jace and pummel him into a bloody pulp but he wasn't so blind to reality that he couldn't see Jace was practically some inhuman weapon now. Before his last disappearance Sebastian knew it was unlikely he could best Jace in combat but now there really was no possibility of it. Still, it was easier, with Tracey's support and calm demeanor that shielded him from his mother's shrill insistence. She explained Sebastian needed to distance himself from 'the situation,' that he needed to let it go … it was the only way to truly heal. At some point, Sebastian saw a light behind his mother's pained eyes and in the end she agreed to let him come to his own decision with a pointed remark that he was blessed to have Tracey in his life and she hoped he realized it.

Of course he knew it and he told her often how much he appreciated her … friendship. And somehow the days passed, life went on but not without a constant gnawing pain that he had loved and been loved in return but it hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough … and he began to doubt himself … and then hate himself until one day, about nine weeks after his stay in the hospital, he was leaving his apartment, opened the door and found her standing there on the other side.

"Clary?" he whispered in a ravaged voice. He thought, this can't be real. Have I finally lost it?

She looked so small and frightened. She was huddled in an oversized sweater even though it was a hot, humid day.

"Sebastian." There was something in her voice that struck him. There was a strength and resolution in it that was so contrary to her weak, pallid appearance. "I have to talk to you."

He stepped back to let her in. He knew she no longer lived in the 48th Street apartment a few blocks away from his place. He had wandered over there after he was released from the hospital and he was mobile again. The sight of strangers, new residents in her apartment, had been another blow.

She walked in, her arms wrapped around herself. She didn't go in far, just a few feet into the apartment before she turned to face him, rolled her shoulders back and lifted her head. Her red curls ran amok around her head. She had cut it so that it just fell below her shoulders and the lightened weight plumped her mane inches above her head. Her downcast eyes moved up and the vibrant green fixed on him. He was dazzled. He had to get away, save himself somehow. In another moment, he would beg her to stay with him even though he knew it was pointless.

"There's a lot I've wanted to say to you but … I-I knew it wouldn't help you and I … knew it would just be … for me," she said with a slight quiver in her voice. "But, you need to know. I'm pregnant … again. It's yours."

She sealed away those brilliant green orbs when she shut her eyes. She seemed to be waiting for him. She wanted something … from him. And then the words sunk in and … everything changed. There was meaning again. He could see past today. He would see her … again and again. They were bound together and …

"Is he gone?" Sebastian asked uncertainly

Her brows creased as she slowly reopened her eyes. "Who?"

"Him," Sebastian stated. It was obvious, wasn't it? He wondered if she was doing this on purpose. He didn't think she would but then he'd been burned over and over again. He had asked for it. He couldn't blame her but … he hesitated.

Her eyes widened as understanding came over her. "You mean Jace," she said very softly … and he knew. Jace was still very much in the picture.

"No," she confirmed. "He's still here."

Sebastian stared at her. "And he's … okay with this?" He made a quick gesture between them to indicate the new connection between them.

Her face crumpled but she stalwartly shook her head and after a few minutes her face smoothed over. "He knows. I think he's staying." She stopped herself and cleared her throat. "He's not why I'm here," her voice strengthened. "I know I've just … sprung this on you but I need to know if … are are going to be a part of this?" She looked up at him expectantly but guarded.

He could tell she thought he might strike out at her, spew something angry and vicious.

"Of course. Nothing could stop me," he answered solemnly.

Afterwards, she agreed he could come with her to the checkups. During one of those visits, he learned she had thought in impossible to carry another child due to some damages sustained to her womb when Christian was prematurely removed under critical conditions but it was apparently quite possible and over the years her ability to bear children was made repeatedly obvious. So he was a part of her life again and even as a peripheral witness he could see her relationship with Jace was strained … but seemingly unbreakable. During the months she carried Serafina, he hardly ever saw Jace and often wondered if Jace had actually left but she just wouldn't admit it. Jace was there, however, when she went into labor and gave birth. At least he was in the waiting room and Sebastian could see him pacing around the hallways. He would not look at Sebastian if he could help it, maintaining a wide distance from him and Clary while they coddled their beautiful baby girl. Sebastian certainly did not want to end up as another patient in the hospital when he was attending the birth of his first child so he kept his distance. He had no desire for another confrontation with Jace.

He also didn't see much of Tracey during that time. She would appear in and out of his life as if to remind him she still existed but she told him she was very busy. She had her job and was attending college at the same time. He really didn't question her prolonged absences, sometimes as long as a month, especially when he could tell it pained her to be around him. He was too engrossed with Clary and their child anyway. It was a fleeting observation. He hardly spent any time pondering it.

He lived in an odd state for a while, until Serafina turned four, a sort of vexed gladness. He was alternately convinced Jace would abandon Clary and Christian once and for all and then berated himself for deluding himself with this foolish wish. Clary and Jace lived together but slept in separate rooms and while Jace was openly affectionate with his son, Sebastian never saw any interaction between him and Clary. But then, Jace made himself scarce when Sebastian was around and they hardly spoke five words to each other over the five years since he learned Clary was pregnant and then cared for their daughter during those first early years of her life.

Something of Clary and Sebastian's old camaraderie had returned during this stretch of time. He saw her every day since he was determined to be a constant and active presence in his child's life. He couldn't broach the subject of Jace and what had happened between them but sometimes she would mention things; that she was considering a return to Idris, that Jace was committed to running the Herondale business which required his residence near the New York headquarters. He knew better than to attempt any rekindling of their former passions, not that he relinquished these hopes but when he looked into her eyes he saw none of the fiery hunger, the choking lust, all the sexual heat between them had vanished. She had erected a staunch wall that denied any entry to the wanton goddess he had known.

Still, he was so cued into her he could tell it wasn't just him who she denied. They spent much of their time outdoors. A daily stroll through Central Park had become a part of their routine. Sometimes he thought the trauma of the intense love that weathered such peaks and dead drop falls had ultimately dismantled her ability to love again. He wondered how Clary and Jace still lived together, why they did it and from this quandary he spent countless restless hours planning out how he would finally approach her, pick up the broken pieces of her heart and restart a life together.

It was after Serafina's fourth birthday that Sebastian was forced to let go. He arrived at their penthouse apartment and immediately sensed a change. He had grown used a rather cold aura in their abode but this time a startling warmth permeated the air. Clary did not come out to greet him with Serafina as she usually did. Instead, Serafina trotted out alone and jumped up to hug him with a joyful squeal.

"Daddy! Everyone is so happy!" she smiled up at him gaily.

"Really?" he asked, returning her smile a bit anxiously. "Where is your mother?"

"She went out … with Jace," Serafina explained.

Sebastian had always been grateful they had never attempted to make Serafina see Jace as another father or even had her call him an uncle. Jace had been a constant presence in her life since her birth and she just accepted him as Jace, another member of her family.

Just then, Christian came toward them, dressed for practice in his soccer uniform. He was a buoyantly handsome seven year old and the years had only added to his uncanny resemblance with his father.

"Hey, Sebastian," Christian greeted him and Sebastian could see that yes, even Christian who was a generally happy go lucky kid seemed to glow with something more, a peaceful kind of knowing that all was right in the world.

Christian reached out and tugged one of Serafina's long pigtails. She giggled delightedly. She had always looked up to her older brother and he watched over her protectively.

"Are you two going out or staying in?" Christian questioned Sebastian.

"I don't know," Sebastian was still trying to get his bearings, feeling as if he were on a slippery and treacherous path. "What would you like to do, darling?" he turned to Serafina.

"I want to stay here," she waved her arms and clapped her hands. "I want to wait for mommy."

Christian shook his head. "I don't think they'll be back anytime soon, Serafina. You should just go enjoy yourself."

"Where did … they go?" Sebastian asked. His head was swimming with questions. Clary was always here when he came to visit. It had become as much a time for them to spend together as it was to spend with their daughter. He barely ever even saw Jace and now the two of them were away … together? He had gotten used to the idea that they only lived together for Christian's sake, that whatever they once had … withered away and …

"Mr. Sebastian," Serafina's nanny, Esmerelda, came out. "Have you heard the news?" she asked with a broad grin on her face.

Sebastian shook his head.

"Mr. Jace and Ms. Clary are getting married." Esmerelda swung her arms out and patted Serafina and Christian's heads. "We're all so happy!."

Something shut down then. The link between his soul and his heart just … snapped apart and he was able to carry on, smile pleasantly, agree with a silent nod that this was wonderful news and long overdue. He wished he could stay to congratulate them himself but … he had plans and unfortunately most likely would not be able to return for a while. He left Serafina with kisses and promised he'd see her before the week ended. He had known for a long time … that Clary and he would probably not renew their heated impassioned relationship and he accepted it but it was part of a greater acceptance and understanding that she had given up that side of herself and it had made things … bearable. He couldn't see them together. No matter what, he couldn't do that and so he called Tracey, his trusted and loyal companion.

He hadn't seen her for weeks but he knew she would come for him. He needed her help. He explained the circumstances without any nuance of feelings. That would have been impossible. So she came back into his life as a regular and frequent visitor. He couldn't return to Clary's home and after a few days, Tracey went in his stead to retrieve Serafina and escort her to him so they could continue to spend time together. His time with Serafina turned into full weekend forays rather than daily visits to her home with Clary ... and Jace. He managed to negotiate these terms through texts and notes passed back to Clary through Tracey. She was very accommodating to his wishes and never pressed him to explain his absence. She wrote that she hoped he was well, that she missed him and would be happy to see him again when he was ready. Of course, Sebastian never responded to this. He thought she meant to be kind but it would be a terrible idea. She had married Jace a week after it had been decided and he learned the news. He felt numb all over.

This continued for several months until Tracey came over one day with an odd expression on her face. He was twenty six years old but he felt old and weary. He could tell she had something difficult to tell him. He looked at her, really looked at her and suddenly realized how much he depended on her. She had become a lifeline for him.

"What is it, Tracey? What's the matter?" he asked her. He put his hands out and held her shoulders supportively.

She frowned up at him. "I don't think I can … do this anymore."

He tried hard to decipher the meaning in her hazel green eyes and gently pushed her thick red waves behind her ears so he could get a complete view of her face.

She shook her head dejectedly, "You just don't get it." Her face twisted and tears streamed down her face.

Sebastian was alarmed and shocked. "What have I done, Tracey? Whatever it is, I'll fix it. I'm sorry."

"I love you, you idiot," the words tumbled out in a jagged cry. "I've loved you for so long. I can't remember a time when I didn't love you but … I can't keep doing this. I can't watch you … fade away like this."

Sebastian remembered how Clary had warned him Tracey was crazy about him. He hadn't believed it but he supposed it made sense. Why else had she stuck around all this time? And now she was declaring herself and making it impossible for him to pretend otherwise. But why now?

"What do you want?" he flailed helplessly.

"You. I want you," she cried.

He watched her uncertainly, still grasping at what it all meant, what he had to do to get them back where they belonged.

"She's pregnant!" Tracey spit out, shaking and frustrated.

It was difficult to define the emotions that crossed his face. His brows lifted. His eyes widened and finally he opened his mouth. "I thought she couldn't … have anymore babies."

Tracey looked exasperated. "Well, that's obviously not the case." She turned away and headed to the door when Sebastian stopped her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Leaving. I can't take anymore of this shit," she answered without meeting his eyes.

"Don't, please," he turned her around to face him. "I'm over her," he saw the unspoken doubt on her face. "I'll get over her," he amended quickly. "Give me a chance."

She didn't move and slowly the stony look on her face subsided. "And then what?"

"And then …," he wasn't sure how to answer but then he knew what he had to do and bent down and molded his lips over hers.

She didn't respond and he thought, well that's it. Goodbye, Tracey.

And then her arms lifted and curved around his neck. He reacted reflexively, pulling her mouth and body closer and the kiss turned into an unclothed embrace when he took solace in her body. From that moment he knew he could recover. He would not be doomed to a tragic lone existence incapable of loving another woman. They were engaged and married almost a year later and by that time he was able to see Clary again. There was even a thawed but silent type of truce with Jace. They could be in the same room, at the same table, look each other in the eyes. Clary and Jace, Christian and of course Serafina were all present at his wedding with Tracey. This time it was the groom who hesitated for the briefest moment before saying I do. He didn't think anyone noticed.

The years passed and Serafina remained a bridge between them with holidays often bringing them altogether like one big extended family. It amazed him sometimes how they had all adapted and come to accept each other in their joined lives. It now brought barely a pang to see Clary and Jace together. They were not overly affectionate in front of him but their love was evident even in the way they spoke to one another or in the briefest touch between them. Tracey had the most difficult time of it. She watched Clary's family grow with the passing years while she longed for her own baby so she progressively excused herself from the get togethers until it became a rare occurrence to find her joining Sebastian on such occasions. She was there however to share the news that she was finally expecting their own addition and that was met with effusive congratulations and warm wishes that their children would grow up happily together. After that Tracey came more frequently with Sebastian to visit Serafina and the rest of the Herondales but she was never entirely comfortable. She sensed there was a part of himself he held back and while it was a vague suspicion when it was only the two of them, it was too hard to pretend otherwise when they were with Clary and her growing family.

"Jace should be home any minute," Clary spoke with a happy expectation. "Will you be staying for dinner?"

Sebastian looked up at her from his perch on the bench. She glowed with the backdrop of the setting sun. He nodded with a smile on his lips, storing the vision of her in his vault of memories.


	48. Chapter 48 Jace Part 1

Jace slammed his hand down on the schematics spread out across his large desk. It showed the intricate designs for the latest Herondale development, a sprawling complex to be built over the abandoned warehouses across the Brooklyn Bridge. He was in a bleak gray mood to match the bleak gray day. Although, his mood was almost invariably the same. It hardly mattered if the sun shone brightly on a warm day with a cool breeze.

"What's wrong, Jace?" Alex asked in a well practiced tone.

"Why would anything be wrong?" Jace didn't bother to look up at her.

She stood beside him as leaned over the plans. Alex was the Marketing and Communications Head at the Herondale business. Jace was glad she was here, that she had finally accepted his job offer about a year ago. She had run through the women's league professional basketball circuit for a few years and after her last injury she agreed to give the job a try. It turned out she was a natural just as he expected. After several years in front of cameras on the courts and giving sports interviews, Alex had mastered a calm, professional demeanor always inbued with an uplifting and positive message. She was an ideal representative in front of the general public and the internal masses that made up the thousands of Herondale employed staff. But most importantly to Jace, she was a calming influence and someone he knew he could trust. He never questioned her loyalty. Her husband, Magnus, also worked for the company. He had an exacting eye for interior designs and décor and was just as good at conveying understated elegance as he was at flamboyant decadence. A skill that was always in use at the myriad Herondale properties. Jace also genuinely liked Magnus. When Magnus spoke, it was invariably honest. Jace could appreciate that and the obvious fact that Magnus adored Alex could not fail to recommend him in Jace's esteem but sometimes Magnus was … too … playful … with Clary … and Jace had difficulty witnessing that. Not that he was around enough to see this more than a handful of times. He kept himself buried with work. There was always plenty to do and he made it his mission to prove he was more than capable of heading up the business and have it prosper under his lead. But he did live with her so it was inevitable he would see her on occasion and even see her with other people.

It had been four years since he returned to her and their son and he understood from that first meeting she needed time. Too much had happened to pick up from where they left off and he could accept that. He was willing to wait as long as he had to. Of course his own life had stopped the moment they had parted but it had been his own conscious choice. He knew that, despite the motivation behind his choice. But he thought she still loved him. He could feel it when he held her and when he searched the beautiful green depths of her eyes. When she told him she loved Sebastian, that she'd been with him, it left searing welts deep within his chest but he could see beyond it, that she loved him more, that if he only held on she would choose him and that was enough. So, he answered truthfully, that it didn't matter, at least not enough to make a difference, and he was permitted to wrap her into his arms and press his lips on the silken curls over her head. He couldn't kiss her, not yet, but he knew that would come eventually. For a brief moment, he was at peace again. They belonged together and finally, they were together, clutching one another. At that moment he knew nothing would ever separate them again.

But then they were interrupted and they were pulled apart by a blaring alarm, a loud insistent buzzing from the building's front door. An immediate fear hardened her body and he didn't need to hear her say a word to know her worries jumped to Christian, their son. It had them both rushing to answer the demanding buzzing call. She was already out the door of her apartment when he pressed at the button to open the front door. And then everything unraveled. It was Sebastian and the sight of that desperate thieving worm clinging to Clary obliterated all reason from Jace's head. His senses returned only after a furious whirl unleashed through his body, when he felt her touch and heard the sound of her pleas. Afterwards he almost wished he had managed to end Sebastian before she stopped him.

Jace leaned back and stretched the rigid muscles of his back, only vaguely aware that Alex was watching him. He could tell she had something to say and he was fairly certain he wouldn't like it from the cautious expression on her face.

"Clary asked me to speak with you."

That got his attention. It startled him.

"Why wouldn't she just talk to me herself?" Jace questioned in a blank tone. He slowly moved his head to face Alex.

She shifted uncomfortably at his glare. "She says you don't like to talk to her, won't even look at her."

It was true but Jace had not thought she cared or noticed.

"She wants to move back to Idris," Alex spoke determinedly.

Jace recognized the look and voice. Alex clearly wanted to get through with this conversation as quickly as possible.

"Idris," Jace answered with no evident emotion.

Alex frowned and shook her head. "Well, you have to admit our home town is beautiful and a wonderful place to raise children."

"She wants to leave," Jace began to understand. "She wants to leave me."

There was a sadness on Alex's face. "She thinks it would be best for the children … and for you."

He felt a little dizzy. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to feel anything. Not where it concerned her. That part of himself was sealed up behind a thick frozen wall. After she told him she was having Sebastian's baby, he was so lost and confused and everything changed.

"What does this mean?" he had asked her immediately afterwards in a shaking voice. He watched her green eyes well up with tears and … fear? Was she scared of him? He didn't know how to hold himself together but … he could never … he would never … give her any reason to fear him. "Do you want me to go?"

By that time, he had convinced her to move into his penthouse duplex with Christian, only a short distance from the Herondale business headquarters in New York. They hadn't touched each other again since he had pummeled Sebastian into a hospital bed but at least she hadn't gone to visit him. Jace knew she was making an effort to pull away from Sebastian and he sensed the uncertainty that halted their movements toward each other thawing. But then something changed. Something was wrong.

She was shaking when he asked her what was bothering her and she said it. "I'm pregnant."

And then his world came crashing down.

"No, of course not," she seemed surprised. "This is your home. If you want me to go …" her voice trailed off and she watched him silently.

"It's our home," Jace answered without thinking and then he had a damning image of her big with Sebastian's child growing inside her.

It would crush him to see her that way and yet he couldn't live without her. He had tried to deal with it. He didn't know what was on his face but he could feel himself stiffen when she came near him and he could see the way she backed away from him, that there was something she saw in him that had her turning away. He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her. He wanted to tell her he would take care of her, their son and her new baby but it was so hard to find his voice when she was near. But finally, a week later, he found his courage and he had resolved to speak to her, to tell her he wanted to be there for her and be a part of this new baby's life. He would offer to take her to her OB visits. He had overheard her speaking with the housekeeper, Mabel, that she had an appointment scheduled.

He was waiting for the woman to leave the room before he made himself known to her and then she told Mabel. Sebastian was accompanying her. She was expecting him any moment and planned to meet him in the lobby. Jace didn't have to see Mabel. He could hear the confusion in Mabel's voice. She had no idea who Sebastian was and was only introduced to his existence with the explanation that he was the father of her unborn child. Of course Mabel was well aware Clary and he already had a child together. They lived together and she'd seen them both with their son. He suddenly found himself wondering what she thought of them. What did they all think of Clary and him? There was a staff of five that handled all the household matters and his own personal assistant who also worked with him at the Herondale business. By this time, Clary and Christian had lived with him for a little over a month and he couldn't clearly remember how he introduced them. He heart had been so muddled and torn by a storming contrast. He was genuinely happy that they were moving in with him. They would finally be a family together. But he was also tormented by the unavoidable fact that Clary shied away from him. She wasn't ready, she told him, but she was here and that could only mean she wanted to eventually get there.

Jace realized then he was angry and frustrated. He hadn't thought this through. He knew when she told him she was pregnant it was Sebastian's child. She didn't have to identify the father and he was relieved she didn't say it outright. He had struggled to come to terms with this new turn of events and he had been able to get to this point, to want to be a part of this new addition in her life, and now he was forced to face the reality that Sebastian would be there. Sebastian would not fade away into the past, where he belonged. Sebastian wanted to raise his child. Of course he did and Jace was furious with himself for failing to anticipate this. He didn't know how long he stood there by the doorway contemplating his own stupidity and the cruel masters of fate that would decree this outcome so he jumped back when his eyes focused down at the sight of her concerned face, her brows lifted with worry, her green eyes questioning.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

It was the first words she had spoken to him in a week since she … told him, since he stumbled back from that brief conversation insisting that she and Christian would remain here, with him, in their home and then proceeded to avoid her. He needed the space to make sense of everything and what he had to do. He didn't know how to answer this question now that she approached him. He didn't think he could speak. He gazed down at her and felt a thousand goodbyes waiting to cross his lips but he only shook his head once and walked away.

They rarely spoke, possibly a few words each month, always about Christian, but usually any arrangements to attend to their son was handled through his assistant. He had been there, though, at the birth of her daughter. She named her Serafina and the baby was beautiful. This was no surprise considering who was her mother but Jace had not expected to feel anything for the infant. He couldn't help it though. When he first set eyes on the tiny creature and she first lifted her clear green eyes up at him he couldn't see the jet black hair or the ivory complexion she undeniably inherited from her father. All he could see was this extension of Clary, come to life.

Clary caught him once when he was alone with the newborn girl in her nursery. He stood over her while she grasped his finger in her own tiny hands.

He was shaken by her nearness but he turned to face her and told her, "She's very beautiful."

"Yes," Clary's cheeks glowed with warmth. "She's my perfect baby girl."

They stared at each other, no other words spoken between them, and he left the room when Serafina released his finger.

As Serafina grew older, took her first steps, said her first words, Jace was there to witness these marvels. Although typically in the background, he found ways to dart into her life when she wasn't with her mother or Sebastian and they shared a special bond. The little girl was always glad to see him. She accepted him and loved him and he had no choice but to reciprocate. Once he was about to enter her room, later than he would usually visit. He made it a point to drop in before he left for work but that day he spilled coffee all over himself when Clary uncharacteristically appeared in the kitchen in the early morning hour. As big as the penthouse was, it was unavoidable to run into her at least once a day but he had learned to steel himself from these encounters and since he spent more than twelve hours at work every day he was generally not subjected to her presence more than a minute or two daily. But this time, she showed up in a filmy nightgown that accentuated all the delicate curves of her body in a breezy fabric that looked like it was meant to be ripped off. She was never up and about at that hour, just a little past five in the morning. So after fumbling with his mug, splattering the hot drink all over himself and rushing away to change, he only planned to spend a brief few minutes with Serafina before departing but instead he slammed backward when he realized Clary was already there with her daughter on her lap, rocking gently in the chair facing a window.

He would have left then and there but he heard his name on Clary's lips and he was trapped there. He couldn't move. He stood back behind the door hating himself for his weakness, for being in this position, dreading and cherishing the sound of her voice and what she might say about him.

"You're very lucky to have Jace in your life," she said in a light voice. "There's nothing in the world like his love and he does love you. Yes, he is family. He's Jace, your Jace," she finished in a sweet, practical way that clearly answered some unheard question from Serafina.

He was able to walk away then and he thought things might change after that. He couldn't say exactly how or why but he felt like something was different. A hazy uncertainty between them had lifted. At least that was how he felt immediately afterwards. That had been three months ago and if anything the only marked difference since that morning was that he could go a week without seeing her as opposed to the minute or two encounters he had grown used to each day and it was now after those fleeting seconds every day had disappeared that he realized he had lived for those brief flashes in her company. They had sustained him and without them he was … starving, hardening even more, something he'd not thought possible. He was a stiff, brittle shell of a person and now she wanted to leave him altogether. She would take away even the weekly drops of time that his desperate soul clung to. She wanted to kill him.

"She has to say it to me," Jace resolved. "If she wants to leave, she has to say it to my face. I deserve that much. She can't just … pretend I don't exist."

"Jace," Alex said disapprovingly. "That's -."

"Too much to ask?" Jace glared at her. His heart felt like it would crumble to dust. He couldn't stay here with the stark, glimmering sheets of marble and granite that surrounded him.

"Crazy," Alex answered with a shake of her head. "We can all see how … destructive this is … this thing between you two. You're both clearly unhappy and what's more … it's killing you. You can't keep going on like this."

Jace jumped up. "Christian. She can't take Christian away from me. I know I work too much but he needs me. He needs his father."

"Jace," Alex watched him with rounded eyes. "Clary doesn't want to take Christian away from you. I think she figured you usually don't even see Christian until the weekends and he could visit or you could come see him then," Alex foundered at Jace's grim expression.

"Of course Sebastian would go with her," Jace stated but looked at Alex questioningly.

She wrinkled her nose. "I-I don't know. That honestly did not come up. I really don't this she's even discussed this with him."

"But he sees Serafina every day," Jace noted. "Is he really going to let them move to Idris without him?" A thick black cloud swirled around him. "I'm leaving," Jace announced and headed out the door without a backward glance.

He didn't think Alex said anything else. He couldn't hear anything. Static thundered through his head. He just put one foot in front of the other, considered using the stairway but he was more than forty flights up. It would be faster to take the elevator. He pressed the button and felt the pressure of glossy red nails over his exposed forearm. He had rolled up his shirtsleeves while he examined the architect's sketches and had left his office without straightening his clothes or even pulling on his blazer.

"Where are you going, Jace?" A tall blonde peered up at him with concerned sky blue eyes.

It was Karina, his second in charge. She had been his first hire after he took the reins at the Herondale business four years ago. She had already been working for his grandmother but pigeon holed as a pretty face, perfectly polished to attract investors. It was an important job for which she was well compensated but it didn't take long for her to introduce herself and make it known to him that she was ready for a greater role and he agreed to give her a chance. She had not let him down and was frequently his only companion late at night, long after the rank and file had left the office and returned to their homes. Jace could always find something else to work on before heading back to his own home for a few restless hours before getting up and starting the routine all over again. Karina was also his go to partner for the frequent social engagements with investors, clients and PR events.

Jace felt comfortable around her and told her enough about his personal circumstances that he turned to her and replied, "It's Clary. She … wants to leave."

"Finally," Karina answered with a sigh of relief.

"What?" he looked at her, astounded.

"This is a good thing, Jace. You need to move on with your life and that's not going to happen while you two … live together," Karina blurted out somewhat petulantly.

Jace realized she was flushed and her expression strained with emotion. It was disconcerting … and dumbfounding. Why hadn't he seen this before? She … cared for him, more than just the professional companionship he assumed. She expected, hoped for something more between them. That had always been the easiest thing for him to detect from women and somehow he had missed it. But it actually wasn't hard to guess how or why. He had been so wrapped up with the growing distance between him and Clary and then attempting to bury himself with work to avoid the heart wrenching pain from this rift that he had just shut off that innate ability he had always possessed to read people. He looked down at Karina but knew nothing showed on his face. He had learned how to do that and to do it well.

Karina seemed to take his silence as an acceptance and the tension in her shoulders loosened. "I told her she should go. She's the only thing holding you back. I know we could be something really special. She fucked you over but I'll make you forget her. She just has to go."

Jace felt her words crashing into him. "You told her to go."

"Yes," Karina answered. "For us. For what we can be. I know she's the mother of your child and I know he's important to you. He's darling. He's perfect. But, she … you can do so much better." Karina's eyes swam with certainty.

Jace looked at her blankly. "What did you say to her? When?"

"I saw her here, in the building, a few months ago. She was just standing in the lobby and I knew I had to say something," Karina became more assured and spoke with a rising confidence.

"Was she waiting for Alex, Magnus? Was this around the middle of May?" Jace asked. He needed to know everything. That was when he knew she became determined to avoid him, when those daily minutes evaporated and he was lucky to catch sight of her once a week. He could stomach the gleam on Karina's face until he had all the answers. He had always liked Karina for her cool, crisp demeanor. He had assigned an icy confidence as her dominant feature but the way she looked at him now was its scorching opposite.

"It was in May and no, she didn't come for Alex or Magnus," Karina smirked. "I asked her who she was waiting for and she said she wanted to see you. I told her your office was on the forty fifth floor and she said she knew that. She didn't want to interrupt you while you were working. She was just waiting there in the lobby in case you came down for a break and she might be able to catch you during some downtime."

Jace gulped back a strangled cry. He could feel something so lost it was utterly foreign to him surging up inside.

"Don't you see, Jace?" Karina smiled. "She's such a mouse she couldn't even come to your office. She's completely wrong for you. She was scared to interrupt you."

"What happened, then?" Jace managed.

"I told her you never leave your office unless there's a meeting and then I asked her if she was happy. She was pretty shocked when I said that. She looked completely shaken by it so I just went ahead and said what needed to be said. I told her she didn't look happy and I knew for a fact that you were miserable and that you would never find any peace while she was around. I asked her how she thought she fit into your life and I told her I could make you happy but she needed to remove herself. I know you have this ludicrous idea that you owe her something, that you can't move on while she's still clinging onto you and I told her if she ever wanted you to be happy again she would take herself out of the equation," Karina finished triumphantly.

Karina's satisfied beam dampened a little from Jace's lack of affirmation but she moved closer toward him.

He stepped back. "What did she say?"

A small frown appeared on Karina's face. "She asked me if you actually told me any of this and I told her you didn't need to. I spend practically every waking moment with you. I know you better than anyone." She raised her hands and placed them on his chest.

Jace stepped back so that her hands dropped down to her sides. "There will never be anyone else for me but Clary. I'm sorry if you had another idea but you shouldn't have said those things to her. I have to go talk to her." He turned back to face the elevator, rolling down his sleeves. He was worried what he might do, what else he would say if he looked at her another second. He had never felt so out of control since that hopeless instant when he unleashed his fury at Sebastian.

"Jace," she said in such a quiet voice he wouldn't have known it was her if he hadn't just turned from her.

He shook his head mutely and stepped gratefully into the elevator, pressing the close door button as soon as he got in. He was breathing hard, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. He had no idea what he would say when he saw her. He only knew he had to see her. And then what?, he asked himself. I don't know. I don't know how to talk to her anymore. I don't know how to be a human being anymore. But there was no doubt he was a living, breathing, feeling thing again. He could feel his heart beat, the blood racing through his veins, an adrenaline rush up and down his body.


	49. Chapter 49 The Art of Jace Part II

"Is anyone home?" Jace called out.

It wasn't even ten in the morning yet and he was puzzled by the stark quiet that permeated the abode when the elevator doors opened into the top floor apartment. His right hand went up to reach for his cell phone. Damn it. He had left it along with his blazer and wallet at the office. He had stormed out with such a single minded drive and now that he arrived at his desired destination he was confused. Why had he come here like this? He should have thought this through, prepared something to say, reined in the frantic emotions that had burst out of the carefully controlled calm he had spent the last four years cultivating. What the hell was he doing?

He was standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows, staring out at the clear blue skies above the crowded Manhattan landscape.

"The staff are usually out after the children go to school. I've told them it's fine for them to take care of their personal affairs then. You're never home and I like to have the space to myself. It helps … with my painting." She stood by the connecting entryway from the kitchen. She had on an oversized paint splattered denim shirt that she had rolled up at the sleeves. She wore a grey tank top beneath it and black leggings. Her feet were tucked into a worn pair of canvas slip-ons and her hair was piled on tole of her head with fiery red ringlets spilling out.

His throat dried up and he lost his voice but he couldn't stop his feet. They moved toward her until she was within arm's reach and his eyes travelled all over her but when they landed on her face, it was as if he was seeing through a lens that blurred and lost its focus so he had to look away.

He could feel the tension emanating out of her and he forced himself to keep his senses open, to feel it fully. The effort created a keen, piercing sensation through his chest but he had to face this, all of it or … or …

"Alex called me. She told me she talked to you and that you just walked out of the office. She thought you might come here." Clary spoke in a cool voice and stood straight and firm but there was a trembling volcano beneath that surface. He concentrated, beating down his own automatic response to turn off and turn away.

"Karina told me she spoke to you," Jace didn't know why these would be the first words out of his mouth. They just spilled out. He studied her carefully.

Her eyes widened and there was a hitch in her steady breathing. She blinked rapidly and then seemed to steady herself. He thought she might have leaned back slightly but now she lifted her chin and gazed up at him unsparingly.

She nodded, "Yes, Karina cares for you. She wants you to be happy and it seems I am standing in the way."

"Please tell me," Jace continued and he didn't know how or why he had no ability to filter his thoughts before they came out. "Why were you there that day? When Karina saw you at the office building and you were … waiting for me … what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Her face swiftly turned down and he thought she would move away. She was struggling with herself. She was fighting something and he ached all over with the knowledge. "I need to know. I need to know what you want. I need the truth."

She shook. Her arms wrapped around herself and he knew she was holding herself together. His own hands rose and they gently reached up around her arms. And then he was shaking. It was indescribable, to hold her again, even in this awkwardly distant capacity, only her upper arms in the gentle grip of his hands, but he felt her. He hadn't touched her in four years and it was like life pouring back into his soul.

She froze at his touch with a gasp and then he could feel her twisting, slowly, hesitantly. She was trying to get away from him but she was fighting herself with the attempt.

"Stop it," he said roughly. "Stop fighting it," he begged.

She abruptly lifted her head, those beautiful green eyes shining and flashing. Those eyes could torch him into cinders or provide all the life healing sustenance that he yearned for.

"I came for you," she answered so vehemently her energy pushed him back. "I came to tell you I was done waiting for you, that I couldn't wait anymore, that I love you and it's killing me that you stay away. I wanted to know if you were ever going to forgive me, if you could ever love me again." Her words ended with a stilted sob and her luminous sparking green eyes turned down, away from his own gaze.

"Please look at me," he urged. "You only have to look at me to know all the answers." There was so much more to say he felt himself choking over the unspoken words and he longed for the depth in her eyes. There was nothing else he could want but to see his own reflection in those sparkling emerald pools.

He watched her, a desperation building up inside him. Every inch of his being aching for her to meet his own quaking eyes. But slowly, mercifully, she turned her head up to his. He could breathe again. He searched those clear green depths again. He needed to see those rejuvenating words in her eyes. He needed to know they were still true, that she could still feel them and he found himself utterly lost at her piercing gaze. Suddenly, it all flooded through him. An overwhelming warmth swept through his core. He could feel her again. The unseen magnetic connection between them that had ignited that first day they met, that had once had him so bewildered, was restored. He gathered her against his chest in a tight hold.

"I love you," he declared. "You're the only woman I will ever love. I've been such a fool. How long? Tell me how long have you been … waiting for me?"

Her shining green eyes wavered but remained fixed on him. "I've been waiting for you since that day in the hospital when you left me. I will always want you. I can't help it." Her words, the look on her face but more so, the vibrant electricity between them, restored him. They healed him in a way he had long forgotten to hope for. His chest felt whole again. The empty space between his lungs that had left a dark void in his life was filled by his beating heart once more. It was as if it just reappeared after having vanished from existence.

"I don't understand," he gulped. "When I came back you said you needed time and then you stayed away from me. I thought … you gave me up. You didn't want me anymore." He wasn't sure why he needed these answers when she was back in his arms and they were together again. They were wholly encompassed by an aura that made every thought beyond their togetherness superfluous. He supposed it was precisely that reason which allowed him to pursue this questioning. It didn't matter anymore but he still wanted to know, to understand how everything had gone so wrong for so long, to know that it could never happen again.

She shook her head but gratefully, she did not drop her eyes. "I was sure you couldn't want me anymore. Not after Sebastian. You always said it would drive you crazy to think of me with someone else and then … Serafina … I didn't think you could want me again after that but I couldn't stop loving you or wanting you, not ever," she sobbed.

He lowered his head and found her lips. The plump feel of them, so soft, so delicate at first, turned into a hungry, mouth open, tongues clashing kiss in brief seconds. His body flared with need. His hands travelled up and down her curves, grasping and digging in the perfectly alluring flesh that had every nerve screaming for a more deeply physical reunion.

"You're the only thing I need," he panted between their coupled mouths. "I don't care about the past. As long as you're mine now and all the nows from here on." He hadn't realized tears had fallen from his eyes until the hot salty moisture reached his tongue.

"I've been yours, only yours since you came back to me," she answered. "I will always be yours for as long as you want me."

"Then, for eternity," he whispered.

He relished the taste of her and the memories that flooded back with them, the countless times they had absorbed each other, drunk on one another. His hands caressed all the soft luscious parts of her that had been denied from his touch for too long. All his senses sang out with joy at the feel of her beneath his fingertips. Their bodies were pressed against each other. Their arms so tight around the other. Her own were wrapped around his neck while his held her up against him. One arm snaked around her waist and the other gripped one of her thighs wrapped above his hips. His head fell back and he grunted loudly at the heated friction of the center between her open legs surrounding him, clutching him as she moved up and down against his own hardened demanding desire.

He swung his head back down to suck ravenously at the smooth curve of her neck while he stumbled backward until he crashed down on the couch behind him with her on top. His hands then uncontrollably launched themselves at her body, tearing at the fabric that clothed her chest, then freeing her flawless, creamy breasts. His eyes then his mouth feasted on them and she was crying out at the feel of his mouth and tongue all over those soft, firm, luscious mounds. She sighed loudly when his kisses ended at her rigid, tanned nipples which he nuzzled and sucked into his mouth. She was still rolling her lower body against his raging member and her flurried frantic pace informed him she was on the verge of coming apart.

"I need you. God, I need you," he bellowed out.

His hands grabbed at the top of her leggings and tugged them down, feeling the thin lace of her underwear beneath them. All reason and thought evaporated then and he was mindlessly tearing at the scraps of the clothing until her bare flesh was positioned above his body. Somehow his own clothes had come off and it was evident her feverish hands had been busy on them while his own had been more brutally occupied with tearing her clothes off. Her hot wet opening sliding against him, the unmistakable scent of her filling the air around him, reaped a scorching pain from his manhood. It was so stiff, erect with need, he thought it would explode. He had wanted to do this slowly, treasuring, worshipping every inch of her body before he entered but his needs could not be contained. His hands clamped around her hips and positioned her dripping well over his throbbing staff and then slammed her down onto him and kept her pinned in place. His rock hard shaft pulsed with a vibrating, grateful release, housed deep inside her.

"This is where I belong," he groaned loudly. "I'm sorry it had to be like this but I'll make it up to you later. I'm not going to be able to pull out for a long time."

His overpowering lust had blinded him and now that he was finally inside her heavenly folds that clenched wetly around his excruciatingly ecstatic erection he opened his eyes again and searched into hers. What he saw filled his heart with so much wonder and gladness to be alive he couldn't imagine a more sublimely perfect moment.

She laughed lightly amid her mewling cries of pleasure. "You never have to apologize for being inside me. It's just like you said. It's where you belong. We're supposed to be together. That's the only way we can ever make sense."

He had released enough of his bursting need so that he didn't need to keep her locked in place, seated firmly over him. His hands remained tight on her hips but he loosened his hold so that she could move up and down, his stiff erection sliding in and out of her. The both convulsed from the intimate rubbing friction and screamed out at the explosive wet heat her movements drew out of them both.

"I love you. I'll always love you. Promise me we'll never be apart again. Promise me we'll end everyday together like this," he panted.

"Yes, yes!" she answered. "I only want to be with you. I want to have your children. I want to be your—," she stopped suddenly. Her torturously delicious writhing over his cock arrested, but he was still pumping into her although not at the rapturously flowing stream when her pussy was actively squeezing it out.

"God, what is it?" he cried out. He could hardly think straight with his dick so enraptured after years of neglect.

"Nothing," she stuttered a little and it was like icy water slammed against him, awakening him from his cockcentric trance. He was still engorged, enveloped by her hot wet walls but he wasn't coming anymore.

"No," he said in a pained, wanting voice. "No more hiding. We have to be completely honest with each other. You said you want my children … more children?" he pondered, a vision of a growing family floating in his head, then smiled, knowing it was all he'd ever wanted as long as it were with her. "I think we mentioned ten kids once," he teased.

"Yes," she relaxed. "I'm not sure I can do ten but certainly a few more. You're meant to make beautiful babies."

"We could be making another one right now," he offered tilting his thick shaft into her, their soaking connection providing abundant evidence that she was filled with his seed.

"Yes," she answered in a sultry voice. "That's all I want."

"And what else?" he persisted. "You were about to say something else."

"Jace," she shook her head.

"Tell me," he begged. "I need to know. I'd do anything for you. All I want is to make all your wishes come true."

Her emerald green eyes studied him. He realized she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure about him and it cut him.

"I want to be your wife," she explained slowly. Those beautiful green eyes plunged into his as if they were extracting the truth from his soul.

But he had nothing to hide. His hands moved of their own will, reaching up to cup her face and pulled her visage so close it filled his vision and then let his mouth move over hers. The kiss was long and deep and the movement of his probing tongue in her mouth matched the languid pace of their connected, pleasure surging bodies.


End file.
